Lethal Species
by Megalomaniac2
Summary: Crossover, full summary inside! A strange, deadly monster unlike anything Sunnydale's seen before comes to town during Season 4, and both the Scoobies and the Initiative must battle it... Has now been fully revised and improved from the beginning.
1. Welcome to Sunnydale

A/N: Set in Season 4, between "A New Man" and "The I in Team", featuring a few mild canonical liberties taken with Alien physiology. This is the third and (hopefully) improved edition of a story which has already been published on a couple other sites. The plan is that once I'm done publishing this story here, the feedback it receives will be used to improve it further and then revise the copies on the other sites.

This story contains a wide variety of references and in-jokes. See how many you can find!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any elements from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Aliens. Only the plot and original characters of this story are my own.

* * *

_...men with minds sensitive to hereditary impulse will always tremble at the thought of the hidden and fathomless worlds of strange life which may pulsate in the gulfs beyond the stars, or press hideously upon our own globe in unholy dimensions which only the dead and the moonstruck can glimpse…_

-H.P. Lovecraft.

As the Slayer, Buffy Summers had a very peculiar working schedule. Every night she patrolled Sunnydale's many cemeteries looking for monsters, particularly vampires rising from their graves. This being the Hellmouth, there was always at least one or two for her to slay, and after four years of practice, they rarely gave Buffy any trouble. But this one was different...

"EEEEEEEEEEEE! Stomach spiders going to EAT SLAYER VEINS! WHOOOHOOHOO!"

Very different. Buffy wished the deranged, wild-eyed creature of the night she was fighting would shut up, hold still, and let her stake it already! His insane ramblings were bringing back unpleasant memories of Drusilla, as well as aggravating the headache she already had from listening to Professor Walsh drone on in lecture today.

_You'd think someone in charge of a top-secret government project and a bunch of elite demon-fighting commandoes would be cool enough to make psychology even a little more exciting?_ She thought. _But nooo..._ The dry subject matter and the Professor's hardassed teaching style definitely made the class one of the more tedious parts of Buffy's university life, and today it had given her a minor migraine which was not being helped at all by the yammerings of the disheveled vampire dancing around her. _Must have bitten an LSD junkie or something._

Suddenly the vamp lashed out, smashing her in the face with a backhand. She stumbled back a couple steps, hit a tombstone, tripped, and toppled onto her back. "YAAAYHOOHEEHOO! SMASHIES FOR SPIDERS," the nutjob screeched. He grabbed the tombstone Buffy had tripped over, ripped it out of the ground, and raised it over his head.

_Nuh-uh. No way I'm gonna die listening to him screeching,_ thought Buffy. She had maybe a second to think of and execute a plan, preferably one which-

_What's that noise?_

A roaring whooshing sound suddenly filled the air, rapidly building in volume and intensity. Buffy felt the air around her tremble and grow warmer as it was distorted by something moving very fast. She saw the vampire look up and his jaw drop, and then she was blinded by a bright streak of fire which passed over her, leaving scorching heat in its wake. When her vision cleared, the vampire was sitting on the ground, with his eyes wide, flames dancing on his hair and clothes, and the left side of his chest completely gone. It was as though an enormous shark had taken a bite out of his torso. While on fire.

"Eeeee…" the vampire moaned, "No food for stomach spiders toni-" The words turned into a scream as he began burning in earnest. Thrashing, the vampire fell backwards, uttered a final "EEEEE," and disintegrated into ash. Buffy blinked.

"Whoa. That was convenient. In a weird, what-the-heck-just-happened sorta way." The Slayer picked herself up and dusted off her clothes. She then strolled over to the steaming furrow in the graveyard's soil which had been ploughed by the smoke-shrouded object from the sky which was currently lodged against a headstone. Judging from the angle of the furrow, this was what had punched the hole in the vampire's chest. Something hot which had fallen from the sky with amazing speed... _Hey,_ Buffy thought, _is this a meteor?_

The meteor was oval-shaped, about a metre tall, greenish in colour, with a pebbled and leathery texture, and it looked like nothing she'd ever seen before. It also looked really, really hot, and way too big to carry comfortably and inconspicuously, which left the Slayer with a problem more difficult to solve than a crazy vampire. Buffy started looking for a phone booth.

* * *

Xander had been surprisingly pleased to discover that Anya did not share his enthusiasm for Babylon 5. This was mainly because her alternative to watching the better parts of Season 2 with him involved pushing him onto his back, sliding one hand behind his neck, the other beneath his shirt, and lowering her mouth to his earlobe, where she began to-

The phone rang.

Xander lunged at the phone, snatching it off the hook before it woke his parents. Anya groaned.

"Whoever that is, they're evil. Buffy should kill them," she said.

"It's Buffy."

"Then she should kill herself."

Xander, rolling his eyes, elected not to pass on Anya's request. On the other end of the line, Buffy was calling for a ride. And, for some reason, oven mitts…

* * *

According to most authorities on first-year university life, Willow should have been in bed by now. But her roommate's unique extracurriculars and Willow's own late-night study habits meant she was still up and dressed when Buffy returned to their dorm room.

"Hey! How was patrolling?"

"Oh, nothing new. Fought a vampire who talked about stomach spiders, had my life saved by a meteor."

"And ruined my Mom's oven mitts trying to load said meteor into the car," Xander added as he appeared behind Buffy, lugging a metal trash can.

"Oh." After four years of helping out Buffy, the redheaded witch was unimpressed.

"Yep, had to make the Sunnydale Sanitation Department's job just a little bit harder so we could bring it back," said Xander.

"Lucky it had cooled off a bit by then, or I think it could have melted through the can," Buffy said. "Here, I brought it home for you to do science stuff to." She took the can from Xander and plunked it down in front of Willow.

She peered inside and wrinkled her nose, partly at the sight of the unearthly object, and partly from taking a close look into a garbage can. "Buffy, are you sure this is a meteorite? It looks organic."

"Well, it fell out of the sky all flamey and supersonic so yeah, I'm gonna assume it's a meteor and not the Evil Knievel of garden-variety rocks."

Willow had to laugh at the image. "Wow, you're big with the sarcasm tonight. Rough day?"

Buffy smiled. "Sorry. It's just... did I mention almost getting killed by a nutso vampire and being saved by a space rock? Also I've got a world class migraine thanks to Walsh's droning in class today.''

"And she has to pay for the mitts now," Xander said. "Don't forget that."

Willow furrowed her brow. "What part of Walsh's class do you find boring?"

"Um, aside from her biting the heads off at least one person per lecture? All of it. Especially what you call 'the good part'."

"Oh!" Willow perked noticeably as recognition dawned. "You mean the big long digressions she likes to go on in the middle of class where she lists the ways the textbook is wrong? The ones that you usually sleep through?"

"The ones that you somehow manage to make one of the highlights of your day?"

"The ones she likes basing exam questions on?"

"Exactly! Wait, we need that crap to pass?" Willow nodded. "The price of beauty sleep is getting way too high." Buffy groaned.

"And to think I had regrets about not pursuing the glamorous college lifestyle," Xander said.

Willow smiled, and hefted the can. "Can I run this over to Giles'? Maybe he'll know more about what it is. Because it might not be a rocky Evil Knievel, but it's no ordinary meteorite either." She ran her fingers curiously over the strange pebbled surface, still warm from impact. It didn't seem heavy enough for rock, and it felt like there was something pulsing inside... "He should still be up, and I'm sure Xander won't mind playing taxi."

"Sure, knock yourself out," Buffy said, ignoring Xander's protests as she matched action to words and collapsed on her bed, knocking herself out on her pillow.

* * *

Willow and Xander opened the door to Giles' house (which, inexplicably, was once again unlocked) and stepped in. The mound of books on the coffee table and his bleary-eyed expression indicated an all-night research binge. "Hey Giles," she said cheerfully, "watcha reading?"

"Oh, hello Willow, Xander," he said wearily. "I'm just looking at some old texts I bought recently. A collector of the occult, fellow name of Carter, passed on recently and all his books came into the market just when I was looking to expand my shelves. Some fascinating ideas regarding demon mythology and such in some of them..."

"Uh-huh," said Xander. "Hence the massive night-long read-a-thon?"

"Night long..." Giles glanced at the clock. "Dear Lord, is that how long I've been up? I had no idea. I suppose I must get some rest."

"You do that!" Willow said with enthusiasm. "When you wake up, you wanna look at this meteor Buffy found on patrol?" She held the can out.

"Meteor?..." Giles looked at it. "Oh… remarkable. Thank you Willow, that's quite interesting. I promise to take a look at it with you-" he yawned- "tomorrow."

Giles didn't seem to hear their goodbyes after they left the can by the table, and stumbled more than once on his way to bed. Xander and Willow laughed as they left his home.

"A meteor is 'quite interesting'? What was that guy reading?" Xander said.

"He needs to get some sleep alright," said Willow. "I'll ask about the books when I help him with the meteorite tomorrow."

Willow didn't know it, but that was never going to happen.


	2. Things that go Bump in the Night

Giles slept deeply into the night. Silvery moonlight came through his closed window (having open windows at night in a Sunnydale home is asking for a grisly death) and cast shadows and patterns on his bed and upon the floor. Through the crack under the door, yellow light shone through from the study light Giles had left on. His face was calm and peaceful in his bed. He did not hear a faint squishing sound coming from the foyer... or the slight thump of something hitting the floor... or the light scuttling sound approaching his room... not even the sound of his door opening as someone came into his home.

Suddenly, the light under the door was blocked in several places, casting spidery shadows over the floor, which merged eerily with the ones cast by the moonlight. Slowly, the shadows lengthened towards Giles as the caster of the shadows inched one thin yellow leg under the crack... then another... and another... Soon, the shadows resembled a black hand, reaching out for Giles. Then the legs extending under the door flattened out, as their owner began to squeeze its small, foul body through. Still Giles slept on.

"Eh?"

The legs twitched and stilled as the voice was sensed, the creature not wanting to be discovered. Frozen, not moving at all, it waited.

Then came the sound of footsteps cautiously approaching the door. The creature, knowing it was spotted, suddenly bolted under the crack, and its powerful legs propelled it straight towards its target. The door shook and there was a barrage of curses as someone made a flying tackle for the thing and missed. Giles awoke with a start, just in time to catch a glimpse a yellow, scorpionesque horror flying at his face. He gasped and dove under the covers, causing the creature to miss its mark and slam into the wall. The rudely awakened ex-librarian tumbled out of bed as the door opened and Spike burst in.

"Spike! What the hell is going -" Giles' words were cut short as the thing leaped on him from behind and scurried over his head onto his face. In an instant, the legs had seized his head and neck in a surprisingly strong grip, the thing's moist, throbbing body was plastered on his face, and _it was sticking itself into his mouth_, a tube of some kind sliding over his tongue, being shoved down his throat. Gagging, choking, beginning to panic, he scrabbled at the creature uselessly, unable to get a firm grip on its slimy shell. Panic tore at his mind, he couldn't breathe, couldn't get the thing off, couldn't close his mouth, _dear God he felt something starting to come through the tube..._

There was a moment of sharp, tearing pain in his face and suddenly the creature was gone, he could breathe again, he could see again, and the first thing Giles did was vomit all over his carpet, puking out the taste of that foul tube.

"Well, that's one hell of a thank you." Spike said as he inspected his shoes, which had been splattered by Giles' stomach contents. Spike was feeling rather nauseous himself, saving the Watcher. It would've been fun to watch him die, not to mention that it would have absolutely destroyed the Slayer emotionally. But if she had found out, she would have destroyed _him_ fairly quickly...

Giles looked around cautiously. "Don't worry, the bugger's gone," said the vampire. "Scurried away after I tore it offa you." Spike was acting incredibly casual, as though entering Giles' home and saving him from monsters was how he spent every night. Giles took a deep breath, getting control of himself- _I'll be tasting that tube with my morning tea, I'm sure_, he thought sourly- then got control of the situation. He put on his glasses, grabbed his housecoat, then reached under his pillow and retrieved a small weapon- an axe with a sharpened end and a crosspiece, allowing it to serve as axe, stake, and cross all at once.

"All the doors and windows are closed and locked, and I don't think it will be able to squeeze under the outside doors. It must still be in the house."

"Goody goody, gonna have ourselves a little hunt then, are we?"

Giles looked at the vampire. "Spike, don't think I'm not grateful- although experiencing that emotion in relation to you is more than mildly disturbing- but what exactly are you doing in my house?"

"Beer run."

Giles blinked.

Spike sighed. "I threw a party with some friends at the crypt, and we ran out of the drinkables. Thought I'd 'borrow' some of the fine wine you keep around here and restock my blood supplies at the same time. Your door was unlocked again, by the way. Don't know how you've managed to survive in this town so long... I was helping myself to the fridge when I noticed your big-ass book pile. I started checking out a page that I think had one of my pals in it when I saw whatever-the-hell-that-was wiggling into your room."

_Wondrous,_ Giles thought. _I owe my life to a drunken vampire._ Aloud he said "I suppose I must thank you Spike. Now let's do something about the creature running around my house, shall we?"

The living room was still in the same state of literary disarray Giles had left it in. "By the way," Spike said, "what's with the weird vase?" He pointed at the floor.

Giles frowned. "Vase?" Then he saw what Spike was pointing at. The book stack he'd put the meteor on had fallen over- and the "meteor" had changed. It's top had split open four ways, like the petals of a demented flower, revealing a pale, hollow interior coated in slime. Giles came to a chilling realization. "Dear Lord," he said, "this isn't a meteor at all. It's a bloody egg! The thing that attacked me hatched from it!" He automatically took off his glasses to clean them, remembered that he didn't have his handkerchief, and reluctantly put them back on his face.

"Meteor? Egg? Whaddaya mean, Watcher? I just thought it was some weird vase or urn or something. Lord knows you got enough things of that sort kickin' around here."

"Buffy found it in the graveyard. I didn't get the full story, but apparently she thought it was a meteor. She gave it to Willow for study, and thought I might also like to have a look at it. But... it's actually an egg!" Giles explained. "But I've never seen or heard of any egg of any creature like-" Suddenly they heard a sizzling sound coming from the dining room.

There were wisps of gas, and a faint smell of acid, when they entered the room. The first thing Giles noticed was his open fridge, followed by a hole in the window. Spike ran to the window, then groaned. "Bullocks," he said, "the bugger's gettin' away."

Giles got there in time to get his first good look at the thing that had attacked him, scurrying along the street. It was truly bizarre. His initial impression had been of a scorpionlike creature, but the creature actually had the shape of a skeleton hand, albeit one a foot long and with a multitude of fingers used for legs. A short tube, the one that had been forced down Giles' throat, protruded from the "palm", and a muscular tail trailed behind the creature's body. A truck approached, and as Giles and Spike watched, the thing leaped by coiling the tail under itself, then straightening it against the ground. It landed on the rear truck, and disappeared into the night. As the truck receded, the creature turned and looked at them with a single eye on its back. Giles felt a chill as the eye focused first on him, then Spike before being carried out of their sight.

"Well, that's something new for me," Spike admitted. "Two'll get you one that truck driver's going to have some unexpected company in his cab in a sec."

"You're right," Giles said. "I want you to follow it and help if you can." Spike opened his mouth, no doubt to remind Giles that he didn't take orders from anyone, let alone bloody retired Watchers, then shut it. He wanted another look at whatever that critter was. Giles kept talking. "I'm going to call the others and get them over here. We need to find out what's happening here. Now."


	3. Meeting

"Okay Giles, what was so important that you had to interrupt my sex session with Xander?" Anya was her usual self as she and her boyfriend arrived at Giles' house.

Xander was suitably chagrined. "Anya… no."

"Oh, is that another one of those things humans aren't supposed to talk about in a casual manner? This was so much simpler in the Dark Ages."

"Giles, Ahn kind of has a point," Xander said. "It's almost midnight, couldn't whatever new slimy world-destroying horror you've found wait 'til morning?"

"Hi Giles!" said Willow as she and Buffy appeared behind Xander and Anya. She appeared fully awake and energetic, in painful contrast to everyone else.

"You were already awake weren't you?" Xander said with barely suppressed loathing.

"I had some studying to do. Oh! Did you take a look at the meteor yet Giles?"

There was a snort from behind them, and they turned to face Spike. "I dunno how good a look he got at it, but it sure got a good look at him. Didn't it, Watcher?"

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Buffy asked as she and her friends moved into the living room and sat down. Spike stepped inside behind them and leaned against a wall, oozing disinterest.

"I'm afraid that Spike has a place in this discussion, Buffy," Giles said. "Spike, what happened to the truck?"

"I managed to catch sight of it, driving along without a care in the world, free of any buggery hitchhikers. Your pal must have found someone else to play with."

Xander cut in. "Okay, can we back up to the part where you tell us what's going on? Cause I'm just lost here."

Giles sighed. "Buffy found what she thought was a meteor while on patrol. But it's not a meteor, at least not in the sense of being a rock from space. It was an egg."

"Oh my God." Buffy's eyes widened as she realized what she'd brought into Giles' home. "What kind of creature? What did it do?"

"Yellow scorpiony bugger with lotsa legs, latched onto his face and stuck some tube down his throat." Spike answered. "Why any demon would want to hug his ugly mug, let alone shove something down his mouth-"

"That's enough Spike." Giles interrupted. "And you and Willow couldn't have known, Buffy. Right now, we must find out more about this creature. It may be small, but it was very strong, quick, and clever, especially for a newborn. And it secreted extremely potent acid to escape."

"So.. I guess this means research?" said Xander.

"We don't need research. I know what the demon is," announced Anya.

_Yes!_thought Xander. _No research! And I had reservations about a 1'000 year old girlfriend!_ He struggled to keep his face devoid of relief.

"It's called a Hurk'ugh'Rekk demon. They're from another dimension," continued Anya.

"Hurk'ugh'rekk? What kind of a name is that?" asked Buffy.

"I think the last syllable sounds Sumarian..." Willow suggested.

"I believe the name carries Babylonian origins." Giles said.

"I think it sounds like someone gagging and hurling," added Xander.

"Actually, Xander's right," Anya said. "The name comes from the noises made by one of its first victims." Xander wondered if he might be on some sort of roll.

"Charming." said Buffy. "What else?"

"They send their young here to prove their worthiness to exist. They drain people's life-forces through those tubes of theirs. If they drain enough energy from people to teleport themselves home, they do so and are accepted as a productive, well-adjusted member of demon society and everybody's happy... except the drained people, who are shriveled corpses. But, if they don't suck enough life forces, they die after 24 hours."

"Well, that's good," said Willow.

"Aah… I see. So the portal used by these demons manifests itself as a burst of flame?" Giles asked.

"Yes, which is why Buffy thought it was a meteor. Very common mistake," Anya said.

"Wait a tick," said Spike. "I've seen 'Rekks before and they didn't look like the thing that jumped Giles. Too many legs, tail too long..."

"And I had the misfortune to have that tube inserted into my throat, and I can say with confidence that it was not trying to take anything out." added Giles. "In fact… it felt like something was trying to come in…"

"That egg had a _lot_ of momentum," Buffy said. "It smashed through a vamp's chest and left a trench in the ground. I don't think it was teleported."

"Well, what do you think it is?" challenged Anya, rather miffed at having her store of demon knowledge contradicted. "Cause I've got 1'000 years of supernatural experience which says there is no other demonic creature which looks like that or comes from that kind of egg."

Willow had picked up the egg, and was gingerly turning it over in her hands, looking into the slimy interior. "If it's not any demon we know, then… well," she put it down again. "Maybe this is a meteor. Maybe this creature is something else."

No one said anything as the implications of what Willow had said sunk in.

"Oh no," said Xander. "We are not doing this 'War of the Worlds' thing. I much prefer good old, slayable demons to ray-gun wielding terror from beyond the Solar System. I saw 'Mars Attacks', and I have no desire to die being burned to a radiation-charred skeleton."

"I don't think a foot-long creature is going to be shooting off any 'ray guns' Xander," Giles said. "As for the rest, I feel we must investigate every possibility... there are some precedents for beasts being summoned from the stars. At any rate, we should make this out top priority. This creature was dangerous immediately after birth. I would much rather not find out what it's capable of once fully grown."

"Right." said Buffy. "I'll check the spot where I found the egg next time I patrol."

"I'll do some research and find out which is more likely- interdimensional portals, or an organic meteor able to survive atmospheric re-entry." Willow volunteered.

"You'd best take the egg, too." said Giles. "I can't study it very well here, but the university's science equipment might help you to make something out of it."

"What about the Initiative?" asked Buffy. Everyone turned to look at her. "I mean, they might know stuff we don't, about what this thing is."

Giles sighed. "I suppose it would be prudent to inform them, though I can't say I relish having to depend on Maggie Walsh for information… But it would be best to have all the help we can."

"Okay," said Buffy. "I'll talk to Riley after class."

Spike had been fidgeting and now moved towards the door. "If that's all then, I'll be going to see what's left of my party. Clem had better not've let them trash the crypt."

Anya also got up. "Well if no one's going to listen to me, I'll go as well. Don't come crying to me when you get the life force sucked out of you." She left in a huff, Xander trailing behind. Buffy and Willow left as well, after apologizing for almost getting Giles killed. He watched them go, then closed the door and went to fix his window. _A house must be secure in Sunnydale, after all..._ he thought, forgetting that he hadn't locked the door...

A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own "Mars Attacks."


	4. Investigation

Buffy stumbled through her morning university classes the next day. During her years as a Slayer she had adjusted to the semi-nocturnal life her duty demanded of her, but last night had been much more draining than usual, with the meeting at Giles' in addition to the usual patrol. But despite her fatigue, Buffy was managing to have a fairly normal day marked only by a great deal of napping in class.

All that changed during lunch.

"It was horrible! There was blood everywhere, and on his..." Jonathan Levinson was talking to a group of people, the short, timid student in a state of great agitation. More surprising then whatever he was talking about was the fact that he was being taken seriously by the other students, who usually ignored Jonathan. As Buffy got closer, she could see that some other, more popular students were backing Jonathan up. They'd all seen the same thing, and it hadn't been good.

Jonathan spotted Buffy and slipped away from the conversation. As usual, no one noticed him leaving. _They've probably already forgotten I was there,_ he thought, a little sadly. But that would change soon enough, once he was ready to change it all... Right now he had bigger problems.

He knew that Buffy was involved, in a good way, in the strange events that plagued Sunnydale. She'd saved his life once or twice, and had saved him from his own despair last year. He knew that if anyone could help make sense of what he'd seen, it was her. "Buffy," he said, "you wouldn't believe what happened this morning! You know Christian Joe?"

Buffy nodded. Christian Joe was one of Sunnydale's few surviving homeless. A former cleric, he'd lived close to the church after his career met a sordid end, and his attachment to the church had saved him from becoming an easy vampire snack.

"I've been going to church every morning, as part of my therapy after… you know," Jonathan said. "Today, when I got there, Joe was dead. He was sitting on his usual bench, where he sleeps, you know, but there was a- a big hole in his chest… so much blood. Jonathan stopped for a moment to regain his composure. The sight had left him greatly disturbed. "And his face had these weird red scars on it. From the look of him, I think… he died in pain. A lot of pain." Jonathan looked at Buffy for advice. "Do you know anything? I mean, is there anything I should do..."

"First I've heard of it," Buffy said. "This was at the church?"

Jonathan nodded. "The police already took the body away and they asked me a lot of questions, but I don't think they'll find anything… there's not going to be another snake, is there?"

"No. Well, probably not." Buffy thanked Jonathan for the information, then walked away, deep in thought. What the hell was going on?

* * *

There was more than enough time left in lunch for a bit of amateur Slayer sleuthing. When Buffy arrived at the church, most of the area around the church was cordoned off with police tape, and a chalk outline had been drawn in a sitting position on the bench. Buffy paid the tape her usual lack of heed and started examining the area. There were still traces of blood on the bench and on the ground around it, despite the best efforts of the police and paramedics. Buffy crouched. Something about the blood seemed strange… the pattern of it felt off somehow. She stood up and looked around for some sign, anything. 

That's when she saw it, something clinging to the wall of the church. It was grey and shriveled, and most definitely dead. But that didn't stop her from shivering as its clouded eye seemed to stare at her.

It was the thing that had attacked Giles.

* * *

"Ah, Buffy. I've been looking for you." Professor Walsh approached Buffy as she was heading for the university's science lab. "Willow hinted that you wanted to talk to me about something interesting." 

"Yeah, I did." Actually, Buffy had been hoping to tell Riley about last night's attack and so spare Giles' pride, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen now. Slowly, she began filling the Professor in. As she did, she thought that she didn't like the look in the Professor's eyes one bit.

* * *

In the science lab, Willow was in science overdrive. She liked computers more than biology, but she knew enough to tell that the egg was definitely unique. If only she could concentrate on the microscope instead of having these weird urges to play with Tara's hair… 

"This thing is incredible, isn't it Tara?" she babbled, trying to get her mind back on the work. "I mean, sure the egg couldn't survive re-entry- the heat can melt almost anything- but it looks like could keep the creature alive for a really long time almost anywhere!"

"Huh?" Tara looked away from the computer. She'd been staring fixedly at it for several minutes, trying not to stare at Willow instead. Willow was spared having to repeat herself when her cell phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hey Buffy!"

"Hey Willow." Buffy's voice was tinny on the other end. "I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that the thing that went after Giles is dead. But I found it near where another guy got killed last night- he had a hole punched or stabbed in his chest or something."

"Huh," said Willow. "Was the crawly thing tough to kill, or did you just step on it?"

"No, that's just it!" Buffy exclaimed. "I didn't kill it. It looked like it just shriveled up and died on its own. Weird. Anyway, I was bringing it to the lab for you to do science stuff to, but I ran into Walsh first."

"Oh, okay. Does the Initiative know anything?"

"No, but they want to pretty badly," Buffy said. "Walsh says I'm getting an A on my next test for bringing this to her attention. She 'would neither confirm nor deny any knowledge of extraterrestrials', but she told me this might become the Initiative's top priority. She took the dead thing with her too, said that the Initiative would be able to study it best."

"They probably could," Willow admitted. "I'm having enough trouble just making anything out of this egg. All I can tell is that it's plenty tough, as far as eggs go. I'm not sure about anything, but I right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it came from outer space."

"Great. Now I'll have to tell Xander all his worst ray gun fears are coming true. Anything else?" Willow said no. "Good. I'm going to patrol where the egg landed tonight and see if I can find you anything else, bye." Buffy abruptly hung up.

Tara looked at Willow. "Is she in a hurry?."

"It's a Slayer thing. Giles thinks whatever's going on is pretty dangerous, and he's usually right, so..."

"But i-it's dead now," Tara said. "Isn't it?"

"Don't worry. This is just a loose end. We'll finish up, then we'll have all the time to ourselves for spells and stuff." They smiled at each other.


	5. Graveyard

No one in Sunnydale needed to tune in to the weather channel to know that there was going to be a storm that night- a big one. The sky was a dark, wet grey, the air was still and tense, and the whole atmosphere seemed charged with energy, like a mousetrap about to spring shut on some hapless rodent. The tension in the air matched Buffy's mood as she strolled through the graveyard. Something in her was wound up tight, telling her that there was something going on, something about to happen that was much bigger than a creepy crawly and a bunch of vague clues. She felt that she was missing something…

_KRRAACCK!_ The night was suddenly illuminated by a brilliant bolt of lightning snaking across the heavens, followed immediately by an bone-rattling thunderclap. That was the cue for the rain to come, drenching Buffy instantly despite her raincoat and thick enough that she felt like she was breathing it. A generous portion of hail battered her too, as the wind howled as though every demon, werewolf, banshee and ghoul in the world had decided to form a hellish choir group.

Buffy knew that nothing- except of course her- would be stupid enough to stalk a night like this one, but she kept going anyway. The alternative was a talk from Giles about how sacred duties don't have rain checks, and on the whole, she preferred the storm. Besides, if there were any clues at the spot where the meteor had landed last night, it wouldn't be long before the storm destroyed them. She ran.

* * *

Kara Winchester was miserable. The storm was almost battering her to her knees, and she could barely see two feet in front of her, but she kept struggling onwards, into the graveyard. Her physical discomfort was nothing compared to her emotional suffering. It had been two years since she'd lost her husband, two years since he'd been murdered for some bizarre and senseless reason by gangsters on PCP. And although Kara had done her best to move on since then, sometimes she just had to visit his grave and be with to him, just had to, no matter what. Even on a night like this.

She stumbled, and fell in the mud, sobbing. The worst part was that with this storm, Kara wasn't sure if she could even find his grave. Wouldn't that be something- to come all this way in the storm and just get lost, to not be with her husband? There was no way, she decided as she got back up, that she could feel worse than she did right now. She continued on.

_Splash_.

_What was that?_

Above the fury of the storm, hadn't she heard something landing in a puddle? A hailstone, of course, like the one which had just bounced off her head. Kara kept going. She needed to find shelter, get her bearings back…

_Squelch._

The sound had come from right behind her, and it was no hailstone. She turned. Something large and black stood there, shrouded in rain. It stepped forward, and a flash of lightning illuminated teeth.

Kara fell to her knees, whimpering, realizing that she might be with her husband very soon after all.

* * *

Buffy knelt in front of the meteor's impact trench, searching for something, anything. Didn't know what she was going to find in this storm, but... there! Something had glinted in the baked earth of the trench. Buffy dug it out with her fingers and held it up to-

The scream rose above the storm, above the hailstones hitting gravestones and the wind savaging the air and the rain pounding everything it touched, rose above the storm and came to Buffy clear and strong, and galvanized her as though there was no storm. She jammed whatever she'd found in her pocket and then she was running, stake at the ready, leaping over gravestones, eyes straining for the source of the scream- and the reason. She ran so fast, in fact, that she almost fell over the body.

Thankfully, the rain and darkness kept Buffy from getting a good look at the victim. All she could tell was that she was young, black, and that something horrible and bloody had been done to her throat.

Another flash of lightning gave Buffy a glimpse of a large, dark figure moving swiftly away. She immediately gave chase, at the same time trying to get a better fix on its location. The storm didn't oblige the Slayer with another flash of lightning to reveal the creature, so she concentrated as she ran through the mud, trying to hone in on like she would a demon or vampire… but she sensed nothing. But she did realize that whatever it was, it was heading towards a mausoleum- in fact, the same mausoleum where she'd first fought Darla and Luke, so long ago.

She slowed down as she approached the mausoleum, looking about alertly. The mausoleum appeared even darker and more foreboding than usual as she moved to inspect the doorway. If the creature had gone inside, and then ducked into the sewer tunnels, she was in for a long chase.

But the door was still closed and locked. Then where…?

A snarl was all the warning she had. Buffy looked up in time to see a dark shape descending on her and realize she'd been ambushed. Then it was upon her.

Whatever it was, it was definitely bigger than her. It drove her straight to the ground as it landed, and she immediately felt claws piercing her clothes, her skin, her flesh, blood beginning to run over her skin. It snarled again, and the Slayer reacted instinctively, pushing upwards with her legs. The creature's body was hard and unyielding against her feet, but it was lifted up and off of her all the same. Buffy flipped herself to her feet, ready to fight.

It was nowhere to be seen. Thunder rumbled again.

She turned around to look for it, just in time to see it charging towards her. It had circled around with inhuman speed while she got up, and she only had time to get an impression of something black and shiny running on all fours before it slammed painfully into her legs, knocking them out from under her. It leapt on top of her like a cat, pinned her, she couldn't get it off. Warm drool splashed on her face, mixing with the cold rain, and Buffy could feel its teeth on her throat…

There was a bright flash, pain, and then all was dark.


	6. Hospital

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

_Damn it, I've slept in again. Stupid alarm. Why didn't Willow wake me up?_ Buffy reached for where the dresser was supposed to be, and felt something clipped to her finger come loose.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...

The sound jolted her awake, and she opened her eyes to see that she was in a hospital room. A middle-aged doctor sporting an ill-fitting toupee entered the room. He smiled at her as reached over to the cardiace monitor to shut off the noise.

"I take it from the commotion that you're awake, ma'am. I'm Doctor Roy, how are you feeling?"

Buffy became aware of the wounds upon her body left by whatever had jumped her; stickily-fresh cuts and slashes on her torso, legs and arms. It wasn't that bad for the Slayer, but the doc was probably expecting her to be in pain, so she groaned. "It hurts," she said. "What happened?"

The doctor spoke gently and slowly. "You were mauled by some kind of animal during the storm. You've been unconscious for two hours. Your boyfriend brought you in. You'll be fine though, the wounds look worse than they actually are. You have some visitors who've been waiting pretty anxiously for you to wake up. Would you like to see them?"

"Sure."

Willow, Xander, and Giles, along with Riley and Professor Walsh, were ushered in by the doctor, who then left.

"How are you feeling, Buffy?" asked Giles

"Aside from getting ripped up by one of the freakiest demons I've ever seen, fine." She looked at Riley. "The doctor said you brought me in..."

Riley nodded. "My team was on patrol and we heard a struggle. We got there just as that thing was about to rip your throat out. I nailed it dead-on with my blaster, and it just ran away as though it barely felt the shot. It looks like it got a civilian too. We found the body of a woman-"

"Yeah," Buffy said, and sighed. "I saw her too."

"Can you describe your assailant Buffy?" asked Giles.

"I didn't get a very good look at it, what with the storm and fighting for my life. But I'm thinking... claws, tail, big teeth, and it had a shell, not skin. Oh, and it could run on both two legs and four."

Professor Walsh leaned forward. "Do you think it could be the creature responsible for the death of the vagrant yesterday?"

"It was definitely strong enough…" Buffy said, "but I don't think so. Christian Joe had a hole punched through his chest. This thing struck me as more of the tear-you-to-shreds variety. More clawing than punching."

"So it's something new?" Xander said.

"Think so."

"Then we have at least three new types of hostiles in the area, all appearing in the last week." Professor Walsh began pacing. "One of which has been identified as extraterrestial in origin..."

"Wait, what?" asked Xander.

Walsh sighed at having to explain herself to a civilian. "We used our contacts at NASA to find out if any meteors fell in or around Sunnydale the night the egg was found. There was a meteor that night, and it fell directly in the graveyard. That egg did come from space."

Willow stared. "Wow," she said. "Life from another planet. Proof that we are not alone in the universe. I feel like I should be all philosophical and wondery and in awe, instead of just… scared."

Walsh smiled thinly at Willow. "The unknown is always frightening. That's why I want to find out everything there is to know about that meteor and its creature, as soon as possible. Right now we're trying to figure out how the egg could possibly have arrived on Earth intact. We've been studying it ever since you gave it to me-" (Willow suppressed a snort at that; when she'd asked for the egg, Walsh hadn't given the impression that she was willing to take 'no' for an answer) "-but all our tests show that it could not possibly have survived the heat of re-entry."

"Oh! That reminds me!" Buffy reached for her pocket, only to realize that she'd been changed into a pink hospital gown while she was unconscious. "Darn, it must still be in my clothes. I found something at the place where the meteor landed, but I didn't get a good look at it."

"We'll get it from your clothes," Riley said, "and get it down to the lab with the egg."

"You guys can do that?" Xander asked. "Just grab stuff from the hospital, riffle through the patients clothes and leave with whatever's in their pockets?"

"Well, yeah." Riley looked as though Xander had asked whether the Initiative could tie its shoes. "Most of the time if we need something, no one even notices it's gone before we're done with it."

Walsh cleared her throat pointedly and changed the subject. "The Initiative is running at full gear on this," she assured the Scoobies. "There is a great deal of interest in these events; from some very important people. Anything you do to assist us will be appreciated." _As long as you stay out of our way,_ she thought.

"The pattern suggests mutation..." Giles said, cleaning his glasses. "A number of individual creatures land on Earth, and begin mutating into different forms to survive in the new environment. The first one we encountered, the one that attacked me, failed to adapt well and died quickly. But the other two seem to be much larger and more violent... and are doing quite well for themselves."

"But according to our sources, the meteor that Buffy encountered was the only one which fell anywhere even close to Sunnydale all week," Walsh mused. "Where could the other two hostiles have come from?"

"Unfortunately we have little way of knowing…" Giles replied. "Buffy, do you think you could slow your recovery for a while, long enough to have a look in the morgue? No one has come to claim Christian Joe's body yet, and I think it would be a good idea to find out more about what happened to him."

Walsh nodded. "That's good. It saves the Initiative the trouble of examining it ourselves. I'll arrange for a full forensics kit to be smuggled into your room." She looked dubiously at Buffy, the young girl in a pink hospital gown who was struggling with basic psychology. "With instructions."

This time it was Buffy who smiled thinly. "I don't think I'll need that. Don't worry, I've had a lot of experience picking up clues from dead bodies."

Walsh nodded, but didn't look happy. She was beginning to realize that the civilians were too involved in whatever was happening here for her to easily control them or shut them out.

Willow spoke up. "After you're done that, you should talk to your Mom. I called her to tell her what happened, and she was really worried."

Riley took Buffy's hand. "You get well. We'll be trying to pick up the thing's trail, but I'll bet the storm's washed out any traces."

She smiled. "Okay." He kissed her, and they all left as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Buffy's eyes snapped open a few hours later. The pain in her body was gone, replaced by an extreme sense of urgency. She recognized the feeling; her Slayer senses were telling her that she was out of time, that something bad was about to happen, that she had to get to the bottom of this now. She sat up and winced. Okay, maybe she wasn't all better. She'd deal. She swung her legs off the bed and stood. As she did, something came off her wrist.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...

"Oh, shut up!" She switched off the machine and headed for the morgue.

Buffy hadn't been asleep that long; it was still late in the night, and few of the hospital staff were in the halls. Buffy easily got to the morgue without being spotted, and wrenched off the lock as quietly as possible. Within, the still shrouded figures of Sunnydale's dead lay on cold metal tables. Buffy shivered, both from the chill of the morgue and the creep-factor. There were a lot of tables, and a lot of shrouds.

She started looking for Christian Joe's body, carefully lifting the sheets of bodies that seemed his size. After a car accident victim and an unfortunate demon snack, the Slayer found him. Lifting up the third sheet revealed Christian Joe's unshaven face, locked by rigor mortis into an expression of intense agony. Livid red scars crisscrossed his face, disfiguring him still further… _Where have I seen those scars before?_ Buffy thought. _No, not those scars, but something like them…_ She pulled back the sheet until she saw the wound that had killed him. She gasped. "Oh God."

Buffy rushed out of the morgue, barely remembering to put the sheet back where it was, and called Giles at the first phone she saw. "Giles? You there?"

"I'm here Buffy." Giles noted the urgency in Buffy's voice. "Did you find something?"

"I've been an idiot, Giles. When Jonathan told me that Joe had died from a hole in his chest, I assumed that the hole had been punched or stabbed or something. I even saw the blood pattern and thought something was off but couldn't put my finger on it. But now I get it- it looked like blood had been sprayed all over the place, but if the hole had been punched it would have just dripped around the body. I just saw Joe's body, and that hole wasn't punched into him. We aren't looking for another big creature Giles."

_Giles._ Buffy suddenly realized something else. Why the scars had looked familiar.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Giles, it wasn't just coincidence that the thing that attacked you just happened to be found dead. That night it attacked you and you called us all over- I remember noticing red lines on your face where it had grabbed you. Joe had scars in the exact same pattern on his face, except a lot worse because it got such a good grip on him. Joe got jumped by the same thing you did."

"Buffy?" Giles asked. "Please, what are you getting at?"

"Giles, the wound that killed Christian Joes is an exit wound."

"Y-You mean that Joe was.. impaled, from behind?"

"No. All this time we thought Joe was killed by a wound made by a creature, something outside his body. But now I think the crawling thing got him after it escaped your house. It climbed onto his face and put something inside Joe… and then that something came out."

* * *

A/N: I have no idea whether my depiction of hospital procedures and equipment here is accurate, so please let me know if you can.


	7. Uninvited Guest

Joyce Summers tried to stop fidgeting and enjoy the latest episode of "Passions". It was no use. Even though she knew Buffy was all right, she would've killed to hear the sound of her daughter's voice. It was bad enough that she'd barely heard from Buffy since she'd gone to university, but hearing about her from Willow, about her being hurt… Joyce tried to stop glancing at the phone and focus on the latest round of betrayal occurring on the screen.

* * *

A scent, familiar scent. Familiar prey. Same prey that was strong, that had fought, had survived. Curiousity. Why this prey stronger than others? Other had died so easily. Prey came often to scent place. Prey could be there now. Go. Hunt. Kill.

* * *

Finally, the phone rang, ending Joyce's private torment. She picked it up. "Buffy?"

"Mom?"

"Oh sweetie, how are you?"

"Almost all better," Buffy said. "Lots of cuts, but most of 'em were shallow. I should be out of the hospital real soon."

"I'm so glad to hear that, honey. What happened? Willow just said that you were hurt while patrolling."

"Some new beastie running around town. We still haven't sorted it all out yet. But I just told Giles-"

There was a bumping noise outside, along with a kind of hissing. "Hold on honey, I think there's someone at the door." Joyce went to the door, looked out the window, and saw no one. "Strange, there's nobody there..."

A sudden, terrible premonition burst into Buffy's mind. "Mom, get away fro-" Over the phone she heard glass shattering, followed by her mother's scream. "Mom? MOM!"

No answer.

The Slayer dropped the phone and started running, ignoring the pain from her injuries, the weakness in her legs. She had to get there.

* * *

The basement door cracked and splintered under the creature's assault. Joyce huddled in the corner farthest away from the door, and hoped that Buffy was on her way. When the clawed hand had smashed through the window, reaching for her face, Joyce had made a beeline for the closest room with a lock: the basement. She'd hoped that the thick door would keep the creature out until Buffy could get there. She was wrong. Another blow, and the door cracked right down the middle. Joyce could hear something on the other side, something big and snarling. She closed her eyes and prayed for her daughter to come.

* * *

Sunnydale's hospital was a long way from Buffy's house, too long for her to run all the way. Fortunately, some luckless hospital attendant had chosen to ride his or her bike to work today and had forgotten to lock it, possibly saving Joyce's life in the process. Buffy pedaled her way home with a speed that would've put some Tour de France competitors to shame, ignoring the pain from her not-quite-healed wounds. Fortunately the storm had long since ended, and Buffy sped her way through a city slick with newly-fallen rain.

When she arrived in front of the house, she jumped off the still-moving bike, and ran inside through the smashed-open door. She paused for a moment inside, looking, listening. The place was dark and silent except for the television, which was still playing "Passions". Buffy realized that this was the first time she'd been in her house in months. _Hell of a homecoming_, she thought.

Noises, from the kitchen. And they didn't sound like her mother. Buffy moved forward cautiously, ignoring Chad leaving someone at the altar in the background. Entering the kitchen, she saw a broken window. It looked like the thing had already left. Moving further into the room, she looked out the window. Yep, nothing to be seen.

Something warm and loathsome dripped onto the back of her neck. She looked up to see that it was saliva, dripping from the mouth of the creature, which was clinging to the ceiling. It hissed in victory and pounced.

The larger creature landed on Buffy, bearing her to the floor and trying to pin her- again. _Twice in one night!_ Buffy fumed. _It gets the drop on me twice in one night, the exact same way!_ The Slayer was furious, and wriggled out from beneath the creature before it could get a grip on her. Flipping herself back to her feet, she faced her enemy for the first time.

It was definitely taller than her. Her eyes traveled up its long body, starting at the clawed feet, along the powerful-looking legs between which a long tail tipped with a small vicious blade swung. Then the skinny torso, from which two long, slim arms protruded, ending in wickedly clawed, five-fingered hands, and with four spikes growing just behind the shoulders. And the head... The head was like nothing she'd ever seen before.

Connected to the torso by a thin neck, the head swept backwards, extending far behind the creature's back in a sort of curved oval shape. The face of the thing was almost all mouth, a mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth, naturally. Bizarrely, the creature didn't have a moving jaw; instead the teeth were anchored in muscular, mobile black gums which moved the teeth up and down. No eyes, no nose, nothing in that head except that freakish maw. The top of the head was armored with a strangely smooth and shiny substance, sort of like a bone helmet. In fact, the entire outer body of the creature reminded her of armor; instead of skin or scales, it had a hardened exoskeleton, like an insect. The entire appearance of the thing conveyed the impression that this was an efficient, all-natural, top-of-the-line killing machine.

Buffy took all this in during the split second before the creature attacked. The tail, moving with the speed and grace of a striking snake, came up and over the thing's shoulder towards the Slayer's face. She twisted her head to the side just in time to avoid having the tail driven through her head, but not fast enough to avoid a shallow cut on her cheek. Buffy groaned as she felt a burning sensation in the cut ten times worse than iodine. The damn tail was poisonous! But now she was mad- mad at being ambushed, mad at having her home invaded and her mother threatened, mad at how revoltingly unnatural the thing was. She kicked her right foot upwards, driving it into the creature's chin. It staggered backwards, baring its teeth and hissing in fury. Buffy expected that. It was what most beasties did before she kicked their asses.

What she didn't expect was for a _second_ mouth to open within the first and bare its teeth in an identical expression. "Whoa," she said, "that's got to make it harder to pay the dentist bill."

Unfortunately, the creature didn't much appreciate Slayer humor, for it leapt almost before Buffy finished speaking, and then the battle was on in earnest.

Giles would have been proud of the way Buffy handled the pounce. She fell onto her back, kicking her feet upwards into the creature's chest, and used her legs along with the thing's momentum to send it flying over her into a cabinet. The cabinet splintered under the impact and plates and glasses tumbled out, shattering on the creature's smooth head. It was unfazed however, and was now furious. It advanced on Buffy with vicious speed, slicing with its claws, stabbing with the tail, driving her back.

Ducking a clawed hand reaching for her throat, the Slayer seized the creature's wrist in an iron grip and pulled, trying to throw it to the floor, but the creature remained on its feet. Suddenly, that second mouth opened again and shot out of the creature's head on a short, muscular tube-tongue. Buffy flinched back as the grotesque mouth clamped shut on her hospital gown and slithered back into the alien, tearing away part of her gown.

This was getting way too freaky.

Buffy changed strategies and backed up even faster. The creature followed eagerly, allowing the scrap of gown to fall to the floor. Reaching the kitchen counter, Buffy placed her hands on it and pushed herself up, kicking out her legs at the same time. The momentum of the thing's attack carried its face right into her feet. The creature was knocked off-balance, and Buffy seized the opportunity to dive past it and make a beeline for the cutlery drawer.

Hearing the creature snarling behind her, she opened the drawer to find what she needed most: weapons. Her Slayer senses screamed, and she threw herself to the side in time to avoid being torn to shreds by the creature's pounce. As she dodged, one of her hands grabbed a steak knife from the drawer. She landed, rolled, came up, and threw the knife almost without aiming. The throw was perfect, the blade tumbling through the air straight into the center of the creature's chest. The exoskeleton cracked and green blood spilled from the wound as the thing writhed and collapsed. It was over.

"Buffy Summers, in the Kitchen, with the Knife," she proclaimed, feeling justifiably pleased with herself. The satisfied grin vanished from her face, however, when she saw the blood begin to eat through the floor, smoking and sizzling as it dissolved through the tile. The damn thing had acid for blood! Buffy shook her head in disbelief and went to find her mother.

* * *

She found her lying limp in the basement, claw marks on her throat. Fearing the worst, Buffy knelt down to check her mother's pulse, but before her hand could make contact, Joyce's eyes snapped open. "Buffy!"

"Mom!"

"Are you all right?" Buffy asked.

"Are you all right?" Joyce asked. They stared at each other for a second, then hugged one another as hard as they could. Joyce described how the thing had smashed its way into the basement and cornered her like a rat, only to suddenly dart upstairs- "It probably heard you coming, honey," Joyce said- to lay its trap. That had been the last thing Joyce had seen before fainting dead away. "Is it gone?" she asked.

"History. Though we made a pretty big mess of your kitchen... your insurance doesn't cover that, does it?"

"Don't worry, it won't be the first time I've- oh God." Joyce's eyes went wide, staring at something behind her daughter. Buffy turned to see the creature, the wound in its chest all but gone, the bleeding stopped, crouching on all fours at the top of the stairs. It began to slowly stalk its way down towards them, tail twitching behind it like a cat's.

Buffy's first thought was for her mother. She swiftly picked her up and draped her like a piece of laundry over the nearest water pipe. "Hey!" Joyce protested. As Buffy's mother, she was more used to picking her up. Buffy ignored her; it was undignified, but safer than being on the ground.

The creature jumped over the last few steps and landed at the bottom of the stairs. She ran at it, intending to strike before it could. Raising itself onto its hind feet, it swept its tail at her legs, attempting to trip her. She leaped over the tail and scissor-kicked the creature in the chest. The alien's exoskelton absorbed the blows well, and it countered by tackling her while she was still in the air. They crashed to the ground together, the creature on top. Buffy rolled out from under it before it could pin and slash her and got to her feet. "Mom, go!" she yelled.

Joyce dropped down from the water pipe and ran upstairs as the creature struck again. Now it was wary of Buffy, and kept moving as it tried to sting her from long range with its tail. The Slayer managed to dodge the tail's strikes, but found herself being backed into a corner. She launched a high kick at the thing's face, only to have her foot was smacked aside by a clawed hand as the creature continued its advance. She was almost trapped... Suddenly, something THUNKED down on the back of its head. As it pitched forward, Buffy saw her mother standing behind it wielding a… leg of lamb?

_Meh. A weapon's a weapon,_ she thought. She took the frozen leg from her mother, surprised by the weight it had. "You're supposed to be gone," she lectured.

"You were in trouble!"

Buffy heard the creature starting to rise behind her. "Go!" she told Joyce as she whirled around with the edible makeshift sledgehammer at the ready. The creature was now on its feet, and looked REALLY mad. Buffy swung the leg at its head, but it ducked and countered with a swipe at her gut. She jumped back and kept moving backwards to the center of the basement, knowing she needed room to use the leg effectively.

The creature followed, cautiously at first, then suddenly launched a flurry of clawing attacks meant to slice her to ribbons. She warded off some of these with the leg, dodged the others, then threw a low kick to the creature's gut, stunning it. She followed up by swinging the leg of lamb up and over in a complete circle, then bringing it up in an whooshing underhanded blow that caught the creature squarely on its chin. The force of the blow lifted it clean off its feet and sent it flying up and back. It crashed down onto the hard, unforgiving basement floor, two of its teeth tinkling down beside it. It was over. The thing was out cold. Buffy raised the leg over her head for the killing blow that would crush the creature's skull like an egg.

"Buffy, stop!" It was Riley, at the top of the stairs. He ran down, blaster pointed at the creature. "Professor Walsh told us to take this thing alive if at all possible."

"Are you kidding?" She asked. "This thing's a killer."

"It's a new kind of killer," Riley said. "And we need to learn all about it, and we can't do that if you turn its head into road kill."

Buffy sighed and lowered the leg. "Fine. It's all yours. Careful- thing bleeds acid."

"You won't regret this," Riley assured her. "Is your Mom all right?"

From upstairs came a blood-curdling shriek. "MY KITCHEN!"

"Guess so," Buffy replied.

Joyce came down the stairs, groaning. She looked at her daughter. "Buffy... next time, could you just let me die?"

Buffy laughed. "No can do Mom." She looked at Riley. "Y'know.. if people see that mess, they could start asking questions that the government doesn't want..."

Riley sighed, lifted the handset and called for a "Full cleanup and containment team. You will need tile grout, a window, and kitchen cabinets. Look, don't ask questions, just get over here." He turned back to Buffy. "Giles sent me to look for you. When you tore out of the hospital like that, we knew something was wrong."

Buffy looked at the creature, which still showed no signs of stirring. "Nothing's wrong now," she said confidently.

The alien twitched, as though to prove her wrong.


	8. Company Man

The alien crashed against the electrical field of the holding cell, and was thrown back in a shower of sparks. It had learned not to come near the field in the past day, but sometimes it just wasn't able to control itself, especially when food came near. The scientist passing by the cell who had drawn the alien's attention quickened her pace down the hall, and tried not to look too scared.

"You're sure that thing's gonna hold?" Willow asked anxiously, unnerved by the pure fury and malice the alien displayed. She wondered how much more unnerved she'd be if she was actually in front of the cell, instead of watching Initiative security footage on a hidden television screen in the safety of Professor Walsh's office.

A speaker located besides the screen crackled in response. "Don't worry. It's tried it damndest, but still hasn't come close to breaking free," Tecnician Hicks, the young scientist currently in charge of monitoring the alien, replied. His audience in the office could see his back on the screen, as he eyed the creature. He'd been studying it from the moment it had arrived at the Initiative, and thought he had gained a pretty good idea of its capabilities.

Hicks just wished he could be sure.

It was the morning after Buffy had fought the alien, and while the rest of Sunnydale was cleaning up after the storm, Walsh, Riley, and the Scoobies were crowded into the Professor's office, trying to share a view of the screen, much to Walsh's silent annoyance. They watched as the alien paced back and forth, trading snarls with the nearby vampires and demons in the other cells.

"We're calling it a Xenomorph," Hicks said, "because of it is, quite literally, an alien form." Willow nudged Xander and whispered to him to remind Anya she'd been wrong. "It seems to be an interspecies parasite. When the egg lands on a planet, the pre-larval stage- the one that Mr. Giles encountered- forces an embryo into the nearest convenient organism. The embryo grows and absorbs nutrients within the host's body. The process is not unlike that of certain parasitic Earth wasps. The big difference is that the embryo also absorbs genetic material from the host, so when it hatches, it's better adapted for the environment that awaits it. The larval stage then expels itself from the host, and with sufficient food, grows into the creature we see before us with remarkable speed, utilizing the strongest parts of the host's DNA so it already has an edge on the new environment."

"So it's been only one creature all along," Giles mused. "The thing which attacked me one night had grown into the thing which attacked Joyce the next… truly remarkable."

"Ah, that reminds me," Walsh said. "Hicks, do you have sample 1B with you?"

"One moment Professor…" the tech hurried off the screen, then came back with something that he held up to the screen- a small translucent glob of a substance which resembled dried amber.

"What is it?" asked Buffy.

"It's the thing you found in the graveyard last night," answered Walsh, "and it's also what made it possible for the alien to arrive here. Our tests indicate that this is an organic heat insulator, capable of withstanding extremely high temperatures. We're theorizing that the egg entered Earth's atmosphere cocooned in this substance, enabling it to survive the heat of re-entry."

"As I said," Giles said, "truly remarkable."

"Yeah, I've never seen anything like this," a voice behind them said. "Fascinating creature, isn't it?"

They turned around to see a man stepping into the room. Slim, about mid-thirties, with a face that was both friendly, open and expressive while being almost completely unmemorable. The most noticeable thing about him, besides his amiable smile, was the immaculately stylish suit he was wearing. "Ah, Mr. Traeten," Walsh said. "There you are."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I know you hate tardiness." Traeten laughed. He noticed the Scoobies and his eyes widened. "Hey! I don't believe we've met, but I do believe I've heard of you. I'm Jacob Traeten," he rapidly shook Buffy, Willow, Giles, and Xander's hands, then turned back to Buffy, "And am I correct in assuming that you're the 'Slayer' I've heard so much about?"

Buffy nodded. "Um, yeah, that's me. I'm Buffy."

Traeten grinned. "Wow! I mean… if even half the things I've heard about you are true, I owe you my life at least half a dozen times over. It's really great to meet you and your team." He turned to Willow. "If she's the Slayer, that means you must be Ms. Rosenberg. Magic and computers right?" She nodded, smiling at being called 'Ms.'. "Excellent! That just leaves you two- Mr. Giles, her mentor and dispenser of wisdom, you must let me look at your books sometime…" Giles cleaned his glasses, flustered. "And that means that you must be the steadfast Mr. Harris."

"Um …Yeah." Xander said. "Pleased to meet you, person-who-already-knows-us-all-for-some-reason."

Traeten laughed. "Oh, Professor Walsh keeps me updated on all her new friends. Besides, it's my business to know things. Oh, Agent Finn! I almost forgot you. How are the men lately?"

Riley grinned at him. "Just fine, Mr. Traeten. We're getting some good new people."

"That's great, then." Traeten walked over to the desk and leaned over the screen. "Hicks, isn't it? I'm sorry if I interrupted you."

Hicks cleared his throat and continued. "Well, the Xenomorph also has a number of highly unusual defense mechanisms. First of all, beneath its exoskeleton flows a pressurized stream of extremely caustic fluid, more potent than anything we've got in the labs. We couldn't even get a sample because it just dissolved whatever we tried to store it in. Gave us all a couple of close calls down here."

"An excellent defense mechanism," Giles observed. "It makes it a risk to even harm the creature."

"At least to break the shell," Walsh said. "Riley, once you're done the sweep get someone to inventory the armory. I want every weapon which can stop this thing without releasing the acid readied, just in case."

Riley nodded. "I'll get Graham on it. He spends most of his time in the armory anyway. Anything else Hicks?"

On the screen, Hicks glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the camera. "The alien doesn't seem to have an immune system, at least not as we know it, but we're pretty sure most Earth diseases don't affect it. We were able to chip off a bit of the exoskeleton while it was unconscious, and it looks like its shell is extremely effective- lightweight, durable, highly resistant to a wide range of stress and damage. To top it off, it heals faster than anything I've ever seen before. The wound from last night is already completely gone, not even a mark. There's also the matter of its senses. It doesn't have eyes, ears, or a nose as far as we can tell, but it's senses are still far beyond the human. We think it senses heat somehow, and it might be able to sense an animal's natural electrical field, like sharks do. Its hearing is excellent; but we don't know how it senses sound vibrations without ears. One of the researchers thinks that dome on its head might have something to do with it, but it's just a guess. Then there's its sense of smell. We don't know how it does it without a nose, but it's twice as good as any breed of dog on both air and ground scents. We do know that all the senses are located in the head. This is all conjecture, but we're sure of this: bottom line, it would be near-impossible to hide from this thing, and it could track prey in almost any environment."

Walsh stared. "Anything else?"

"Yes... we don't think this is the alien's final stage of development. Its DNA is showing signs of reorganizing itself for another change. We don't know what the new form will be, but I think it's safe to say it will be much more dangerous."

"More dangerous?" said Xander. "This thing already sounds like it could go a few rounds with the Metroids."

Walsh stared at him. "Never mind," Xander said. "The point is, yikes."

Traeten smiled. "Well, we'll just have to keep a close watch on our visitor from the stars, won't we? Personally, I'm looking forward to seeing what it does next."

Buffy frowned at this, and opened her mouth to remind Traeten that the thing had already killed two people, but Walsh spoke first. "Mr. Traeten, we have a meeting."

"Oh sorry! I just got so caught up with the Slayer and co. here." He shook hands enthusiastically with them all before heading off with Walsh.

Buffy watched them go, thinking. Traeten was very friendly, which was a welcome change to the winter winds which seemed to emanate from Walsh, but he didn't seem to realize what the alien was. Also, there was something about his energetically endearing manner which reminded her of Ted… but no malarkey. Big plus. She decided to give him a chance; it would be nice having someone friendly in the Initiative besides her boyfriend. She turned to Riley. "So, what's his deal? Is he a member of the Initiative?"

Riley shrugged. "Not really. I don't know everything, but as far as I can tell, he's the representative for some kind of corporation. He's been visiting the Initiative every so often since we got established here, checks on our work, discusses things with the Professor. He gets along really well with the men too, especially for a civilian."

"He said he knew that I did magic," Willow said. "I thought the Initiative didn't believe in that stuff."

"He probably has other sources," Riley said. "Any company that's allowed to work with the Initiative is probably going to be really well-connected. But I think he's nice, don't you?"

* * *

"That's some creature you've gotten yourself there," Traeten said. He was sitting with Walsh in a small meeting room within the Initiative complex. Walsh regarded him coolly. In her opinion, it was never a good idea to let your guard down around people like Traeten. Especially since it seemed to her that he was good at getting people to do just that.

"What do you want to do?" She asked.

Traeten shrugged. "The usual, except this time I plan to stay around to see what develops. Ravnon is extremely interested in this thing. We'd like full access to whatever data you get from the organism. I'm talking about raw information, samples, and, if any more of these things turn up, whole organisms. In return, we'll cover all the costs related to the organism's study… and we'll increase funding on the you-know-what."

He was talking about project 314, of course. Ravnon had nearly as big a stake in it as Walsh herself did. Walsh was still considering the proposal carefully when her mind seized upon an idea: how much more perfect would Adam be if parts of this remarkable alien were added to him? A cyber-extraterrestial-demonoid…. "All right then," She said. "We have an agreement, but no contracts. I still remember what happened to the last group that signed a Traeten contract."

Traeten smiled his most charming smile. "Why Professor Walsh," he teased, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't trust me."

The two shook hands.

* * *

That night, Corporal Riley Finn called his girlfriend from the Initiative after coming back from his patrol. His team had been unable to find any more eggs in the town, but a lot had happened at the Initiative while they were gone.

"Hi Buffy," he said, "just thought you ought to know. The thing- the alien, something's happened to it. It's gone completely unconscious, and its shell is beginning to swell up, like it's growing inside. The techs think it's changing forms again. Whatever it's gonna become, it's pretty big. We're converting one of the unused caverns into a special holding cell for it. Also, the Traeten guy's sticking around longer than usual this time. It looks like he's helping Walsh supervise the project. Just thought you should know."

And then he hung up.

* * *

A/N: Jacob Traeten is my first attempt at an original character, kindly review and tell me what you think. 


	9. Fourth Stage

"I've got to admit, that's one of the grossest things I've ever seen. And I've smelled the Master's breath. I know gross."

Looking inside the specially-modified cave-cell at what the Initiative staff referred to as "the pupa", the rest of the Scoobies had to agree with Buffy. The alien was no longer recognizable. It had swelled to over four times its previous size, and its shell had split apart into pieces held together by a resinous membrane. The whole thing was slowly, gently, pulsating, like an enormously foul heart. The resinous parts were semi-translucent, allowing partial glimpses of the horror growing within.

"It does make one nostalgic for the blindfold," Giles said. He shot a look at Professor Walsh. "Which in no way amounts to an endorsement of our being led down here by the hand like firing squad targets."

"You may be comfortable letting half the town know Buffy's secrets Mr. Giles," Walsh shot back, "but when I run a top-secret operation I keep it top secret. If Mr. Traeten hadn't... _insistently_ reminded me of your help in capturing this creature, you wouldn't even have entered the elevator." _Another reason_, she thought sourly, _to keep an eye on that man_. You are lucky to be allowed down here at all, and as long as I'm in charge here this is all of the Initiative any of you will see."

"Too bad it's such a lousy view, huh?" Jacob Traeten said cheerfully, appearing behind them. "Still, it's pretty amazing. Sure you don't want to stick around? Techs are sure it will hatch sometime today, and I'm really excited to see what this thing becomes next."

Willow was staring at the pupa incredulously. "How can it do this?" she asked. "It's been on this planet only two days and it's gone from a little bitty egg to... that."

"Amazing like I said." Traeten said. "It grows faster than bamboo. Its metabolism isn't anything near like our own, and its cellular material modifies itself for the next change so fast I don't blame you for thinking it's impossible. I think we're lucky for the opportunity to study such an incredible species." He smiled as he said this, staring at the pulsating blob within the cavern as though it was a Christmas present. Buffy was almost as nauseated by Traeten's attitude towards the pupa as she was by the pupa itself. Nice or not, this guy is in serious need of a reality check, she thought. The pile of raw meat on the floor by the blob didn't help her much either.

Xander noticed the meat too. "Looks like your little baby's gonna be hungry after its nap." he said, pointing.

Traeten laughed. "Yep, these changes burn a whole lot of energy. You can bet whatever comes out of that thing's going to be ravenous."

They stood there silently for a moment, watching the pupa undulate. Although the cavern which the Initiative had hastily converted into a prison via an oversized electric shield was generously sized, the pupa still covered most of the floor. Buffy decided to take the opportunity to find out more about this guy. "So, Riley says you're not one of the regular staff."

"That's right, I'm not," Traeten replied. "Usually I just visit once in a while to see what's happening, but this discovery is so important to my company I'm going to be supervising it personally,"

"Company?" Giles asked.

"Yes Mr. Giles," Walsh cut in. "You see, one of the drawbacks of running a program that only a fraction of the government knows exists is that you can only get funding from that fraction of the government. Mr. Traeten represents Ravnon, a company which specializes in funding secretive projects in return for a share of whatever benefits the project produces."

"So… what?" Xander asked. "The Initiative is partly owned by a private company?"

"No, the Initiative is under the complete control of the U.S. Government and military. Ravnon just chips in, with our permission, and in return they get a small piece of the pie." Walsh emphasized this last part while shooting a pointed look at Traeten. In her opinion, the representative had become a little too cocky in his role as assistant supervisor. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him. "In this case, we've been sharing all knowledge we gain from the subterrestials and our experiments with Ravnon, which then uses that knowledge for commercial purposes. I understand they're in talks to develop equipment for your Watcher's Council, Mr. Giles, based on what they've learned from the Initiative's example."

Giles' eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but it was drowned out by a hideous gurgling coming from within the pupa. Suddenly it began quivering and shaking like the most horrific Jell-O in the world.

Technician Hicks came running up, accompanied by Dr. Angleman. "Professor, instruments say it's starting!"

"Remind me to cut our budget for those instruments," Walsh said acidly. They all stared at the horror unfolding before them.

The pupa was HEAVING. Gurgling and groaning sounds came from within as whatever was inside struggled to break free. There was a sickeningly wet CRACK, as something suddenly erupted from the top of the pupa, a solid black mass protruding upwards. With a squelching sound, it continued to rise, revealing itself as an enormous headcrest, reminiscent of a battle-ax. The rest of the head came with it. It swivelled on its neck left and right, taking in its surroundings. Then, the creature flexed its limbs and ripped the pupa apart with one swift movement, splattering the cave with slime. Dripping, the newly-formed Xenomorph rose up. All the humans were speechless, except Technician Hicks, who began talking with a trembling voice into a tape recorder.

"Specimen has fully hatched and is approximately... four to five meters tall... tail is about equal length." He swallowed nervously as the alien began tearing into the meat within the cell. "Cranial crown is much larger than previous stage.. and is also flattened and widened. Specimen possesses an extra set of arms in chest, very small... approximately one-third the length of the primary arms. There are also new spines on its back, much larger than previously… Jesus, it's big... Calling this the fourth stage of the Xenomorph." He looked at his superiors. "Recommend immediately adding more structural reinforcement to the cell, before that thing's done eating. A LOT more."

"Definitely," said Buffy. "I hate to think what that thing could do if it got out."

"I'll do more than that," Walsh said. "Dr. Angleman, take a note. This specimen is to be officially designated Hostile 100, and as of now it's containment and study is the top priority of the Initiative. I want 24-hour surveillance on it, more power added to the shield, and armed guards in the corridor."

"Armed with what? Bazookas?" asked Xander, looking more than a little intimidated by the building-sized extraterrestial in front of him, which immediately began tearing into the meat.

Walsh shot him a look as Hicks spoke up again. "We'll have to turn off the shield to reinforce it."

"That wouldn't be advisable," Giles said, "for reasons which should be obvious."

Traeten sighed. "We'll have to put up a second shield and reinforce that while keeping the first one on."

"That will severely strain our power system," said Dr. Angleman. "We'll have to make modifications..."

"As long as it doesn't get out, I'm happy," Buffy said.

Xander held up his hand. "Seconding that motion."

"Thirding it!" Willow joined in.

Mr. Traeten smiled at them good-naturedly. "Don't worry. I assure you that I'll make sure the Initiative does everything in its power make sure that Hostile 100 stays perfectly contained."

Walsh looked really pissed as Traeten said this. She said something to Dr. Angleman, than cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "I'm sure you all want to get back to your homes now that the big event is over. Technician Hicks will show you out." Her tone did not invite discussion. The Scoobies were blindfolded again and marched down the hall towards the elevator, with the sounds of the Xenomorph's eating echoing behind them.

* * *

A/N: I realize that I've taken some liberties with Xenomorph physiology here- no one really knows how an adult alien becomes a Queen. 


	10. Long live the Queen

The next few days were busy for the people of the Initiative, as they tried to ensure that "Hostile 100", as the Xenomorph had been codenamed, stayed both healthy and under control. The modifications to the cell and power system were carried out quickly, closely supervised by Traeten. This suited Professor Walsh just fine, as it meant that Traeten was doing his own job and no longer pushing the limits of his authority. The modified second shield worked perfectly, which was a good thing since the Xenomorph proceeded to demolish the first one immediately after it finished eating. The second shield proved too strong for it, though, and it spent the rest of the day angrily pacing its cell, which was far too small to allow it much room for angry pacing, which only made the creature angrier- until it decided to simply smash its way out.

Around midnight, the alien went berserk. Slamming itself repeatedly against the reinforced shield, the massive alien was repelled by massive electric charges coursing through its body. Unable to break through the shield, it switched to trying to dig its way through the solid rock wall of the cave instead. Cracking the stone with its powerful claws, thrusting and prying with its tail, and slamming its head into the rock, Hostile 100 was soon making good progress towards bypassing the electric shield entirely.

Fortunately, the cell was under close video supervision from the hall, and the single, small air duct in the cell had other uses than keeping the atmosphere fresh. Five minutes after it became clear to the Initative that Hostile 100 wasn't giving up easily, a small hose popped out of the duct and sprayed the Xenomorph with a powerful stream of liquid nitrogen. That put a stop to the digging in a hurry, but created a whole new problem. Some time after being sprayed, the Xenomorph began to shiver and moan, and sank down to the floor of the cave. It looked sick.

"Professor Walsh, I respectfully insist you send a medical team in there now!" Traeten's usually amiable voice was barely below a yell, while Walsh just stared more coldly than usual.

"The thing is obviously faking it, Mr. Traeten, and please don't raise your voice in here. We like to maintain our professionalism."

Traeten swallowed, and continued more quietly. "I'm sorry, Professor Walsh, but we both have a lot invested in this specimen and if anything happens to it-"

Walsh's voice was like ice. "_Nothing_ is going to happen to it. If it can dig through solid rock without breaking a nail, it's not going to be brought down by a cold, especially one that's a total fabrication."

"It's demonstrating more intelligence than I would have ever dreamed of," Doctor Angleman noted, ignoring the fracas between his superiors. "To consciously feign sickness shows not only an ability to plan, but an understanding that we want to take care of it. It's certainly not a sentient creature, but it may not be an animal either…"

Walsh nodded. "Clearly, Hostile 100 is the most powerful and intelligent specimen that we've ever brought in, and we are neither going to let it die, or trick us. Now, if that is all..." she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Traeten fuming.

Two hours passed, and Walsh's instincts were proven totally correct when the Xenomorph suddenly became hale and hearty again, as soon as it was clear its captors weren't going to be fooled. It resumed pacing its cell, snarling at whatever came close. The cave truly was too tiny for it, and was another cause of concern for Traeten. However, within a few days it was clear that Walsh was not listening to him anymore, and in fact was beginning to consider him a problem- a state of affairs which, in the Initiative, was not conducive to one's career. He seemed to give up trying to get better accommodations for Hostile 100, and busied himself with observations.

Through Riley, the Scoobies were kept partly aware of these developments, but such mundane and everyday tasks as slaying vampires, practicing magic spells, researching hideous demonic creatures and reorganizing book piles, renovating crypts while dreaming of drinking the blood of the innocent, looking for work, explaining to 1'000 year-old ex-demon girlfriends why, when looking for work, using a potential employer's toupee as a subject for friendly small talk is not a good idea, and being university students kept them from giving it much thought. As far as Buffy and the others were concerned, the Initiative had everything under control, and the Xenomorph incident was officially over.

For Private Richard Jones, one of the newest additions to the Initiative, the Xenomorph incident was far from over. On the contrary, it was standing right in front of him. His assignment was to keep an eye on Hostile 100, "just in case". While he had initially had reservations about the potential boredom of the assignment, which was about as low-profile as Initiative work got- he had nothing but a pistol with which to guard the enormous alien- he was now convinced that a locate-and-capture mission involving multiple hostiles would be downright relaxing by comparison.

Although it had no eyes, he could always tell that he was the Xenomorph's main focus of attention when it wasn't eating, pacing, sleeping, or inspecting its cell for an escape route. There are few things more unnerving than having a dangerous, five-meter-tall extraterrestial staring at you without any eyes. Jones was glad that once he'd proved himself, he'd be able to go on field missions with Forrest, his superior. It would definitely be better than spending day after day with this Thing staring at him. He heard it let out a quiet snarl, and turned his head. Nothing. It wasn't doing anything except staring at him, with one skeletal, clawed hand resting on the shield, tail twitching-

_Clawed hand resting on the shield!_

Jones realized what this meant at about the same time Hostile 100 did. It lifted its head and let out an exultant roar as the private's left hand went for his sidearm while his right went for his talkie. The two items had barely cleared his belt when the Xenomorph reared back its head and drove it into the non-electrified glass with all its might. The shield shattered like an icicle dropped on pavement, and Hostile 100 surged out of its tiny cell, free to move and kill once more. Jones had time to utter a single, panicked cry into his talkie before the alien swatted him out of the way and trampled him, not even looking down. The last thing Jones saw was Hostile 100's foot descending towards his face.

Professor Walsh watched in horror on the video monitors as her life's work went straight to hell. The Xenomorph didn't even pause after crushing Private Jones, but kept moving. It only slowed down for a moment to reach up and crush the video camera Walsh had been watching on.

But Walsh had already seen enough. Within moments, she'd put the entire Initiative on alert and had scrambled Graham's team with orders to subdue and contain Hostile 100 at all costs.

The Xenomorph burst out of the hallway, emerging into the center of the Initiative, accompanied by screams, blaring sirens and flashing red emergency lights. The personnel working around the Pit scattered as they saw the creature coming for them, running for their lives. Not a shot greeted the alien as it moved unopposed through the Initiative, the elite personnel of the government fleeing in terror before it. In the chaos, Graham's well-organized squad of commandoes dashing towards the armory stuck out like a sore thumb- and attracted the attention of the alien.

Noticing the potential threat gathering, the creature acted swiftly. It strode to a passing go-cart, whose occupants were frantically trying to get to cover. The sluggish, overloaded electric go-cart never had a chance of escape. The alien bore down on it and reached out, snagging the cart and lifting it as though it was a toy. Terrified scientists spilled out of it, some running, some lying where they fell, petrified with fear.

The only remaining person in the cart was Technician Hicks, who had been in charge of studying the Xenomorph. Now, getting a much closer look at it than he ever wanted, he clung to the steering wheel and sobbed as the creature pulled the cart off the ground, and then heaved it through the air in a perfect arc up and over the Pit, towards the armory.

Graham had just gotten the armory door open when someone behind him yelled "Incoming!" He turned around to see the go-cart hurtling towards him and the armory.

"Scatter and fall back!", he yelled before running himself. The commandoes moved, just barely avoiding being crushed by the cart, which hit the ground a second after its unfortunate driver did. However, while Technician Hicks just lay where he fell in a crumpled, motionless heap, the go-cart had too much momentum to stop. Its front end crumpled from the impact and it slid forward in a shower of sparks towards the armory- and the explosives within. Graham knew what this meant. He and his men dove, ran, or ducked for the nearest cover. Not finding any, Graham could only throw himself on the floor, cover his head, and await the blast.

Nothing happened. There was no ear-shattering detonation of stockpiled weapons, no screams of dying men. Graham looked up and saw the go-cart lying in harmless ruin on the floor of the armory. He then turned his head just in time to see the tail of Hostile 100 vanish around a corner. Cursing himself for watching too many action movies, he reassembled his team and headed for the corridor, while reporting his failure on the walkie-talkie.

On the advice of her subordinates, and her own common sense, Professor Walsh had taken the elevator back to the Lowell House after she'd sounded the alert. In the safety of the house, she continued to monitor and control the operation via radio. She was now growing increasingly alarmed as she received Graham's report, and began to pace in front of the mirror/elevator door. She was not accustomed to her commandoes failing.

"Well, do you know where it's headed now?" she demanded.

Suddenly, the mirror behind her exploded into hundreds of glass shards as an arm smashed through it. Walsh turned around to see the Xenomorph slowly squeezing its bulk out of the concealed elevator shaft. The Professor dropped the talkie and ran, but Hostile 100 lunged forward, taking most of the wall with it, and cuffed Walsh gently (by its standards, anyway) over the head. She dropped to the ground, unconscious. With a squealing of exoskeleton against metal, the Xenomorph pulled the rest of its body from the shaft. It then picked up Walsh, and smashed its way through the front of the house, into the darkened street. It was finally completely free, and it let out a triumphant screech that echoed throughout the night.

_Kill. Feed. Breed. Live._

She was in darkness, surrounded by moving things. They slithered and crawled around her, barely visible as shadows in the blackness. Warm, moist air brushed over her skin.

_Kill. Feed. Breed. Live._

A presence was there, a mentality that surrounded her so closely she could almost breathe it. Cold and pure as a blade. Intelligence and primal force alloyed together into a lethal machine of a mind. Each one of them driven by evolutionary whips, filled with hunger and bloodlust yet endowed with reptile patience and cunning…

_Kill. Feed. Breed. Live._

The perfect survivors, all around her, infinite in their purpose, eternal. Closing around her, she could feel their shells against her, their tails twining around her, squeezing her soft flesh, because she was small and weak and unworthy of life and all they needed was one to make a horde and they would never ever stop-

"No!" She cried out, and they fell upon her, and she heard their echoing, triumphant screech-

Buffy's eyes snapped open as the unmistakable sound of a monstrous creature on the loose reached her ears. She sat up in bed, listening. Beside her, Willow tossed and turned fitfully as the cry triggered unpleasant dreams of her own. The sound didn't come again, but Buffy was sure it hadn't been part of her dream. Looking outside, she saw lights coming on as other people who'd heard the sound woke up. There was no sign of what was going on, though.

She decided to call Riley; the Initiative might now what the hell was happening. There was no answer at his room. She called Lowell House, she called Walsh. Nothing. And the cry had sounded a lot like something very big- something like the creature Jacob Traeten had assured would never escape. Now she was seriously worried, and got dressed, determined to locate the source of that screech.

Hostile 100 padded down the street with a speed and quietness that would have astonished an onlooker who wasn't already astonished by the sight of a building-sized monster running around campus. The shiny black-green of the Xenomorph's exoskeleton helped it blend into the shadows with ease. It's every step was carefully placed to avoid making sound. It was well aware that it was still surrounded by potential enemies, and was searching for a place to hide, where it could then deal with its captive, who was still out cold and tucked underneath an arm like a piece of lab-coat-wearing luggage.

It was so busy avoiding waking any more students that it failed to pay attention to the sound of motors approaching. Its mind, still unaccustomed to Earth technology, assumed them to be background noise, and paid them no heed until their engines suddenly revved, and then it was too late. The Xenomorph hissed and recoiled as harsh headlights blasted it from three angles. The Initiative Humvees had executed their trap perfectly, and had surrounded the Hostile with a triangular formation which reduced the chances of crossfire. Heavy machine guns on their roofs focused on the alien as commandos piled out of the cars, led by Riley, Graham, and Forrest, and pointed an impressive array of weapons at the Xenomorph. Jacob Traeten and Dr. Angleman had also been brought along.

"Hold your fire!" Riley yelled. "We can't blast this thing while it's still got the Professor! Professor, are you okay?" The limp professor gave no response. Riley sighed. "Traeten, you're a negotiator, right?"

Traeten's eyes widened. "A business negotiator…" he stammered, "with humans!"

Forrest thrust a megaphone into his hand. "Just try to make it let go of the Professor, or distract it or something while we figure this out."

"Okay... okay look..." Traeten paused, entirely unsure as to how he would handle this. He'd negotiated dozens of deals with humans, but Hostile 100 was an unknown extraterrestial, who probably didn't understand English. He began to accentuate his words with exaggerated hand gestures. "No one wants to hurt you, we just want to get our friend back." He pointed at Dr. Walsh, feeling like a bit character from an old sci-fi B movie who at any moment would offend the far superior Martians and be incinerated...

The key with all negotiations was to find out what the other party wanted. What could this creature possibly want? He turned away from the megaphone and spoke to Riley. "Do you people have any food?"

"There are some rations in the Humvees," Riley said. "Do you really think you can bribe this thing?"

"No, not really," Traeten admitted. "Pile them up." He raised the megaphone again.

"Please put her down... that's all we want." He motioned downwards with his hand, then swept grandiosely at the pathetic pile of rations tins being assembled beside him. "Would you like this? If you could just put her down…"

Hostile 100 regarded the little creature with the artificially-enhanced voice with a mixture of amusement and disdain. The Xenomorph shifted Walsh from its main arms to the smaller secondary ones, freeing its primary weapons. The smaller arms held Walsh like an old lady carrying a shopping bag, but there was still no mistaking the effectiveness of the claw resting gently yet meaningfully on Walsh's jugular.

"Mr. Traeten, I don't wish to do injustice to your negotiating skills, but the hostile does not appear to give a damn," Angleman observed, licking his lips nervously.

"Just keep stalling!" Forrest called. "If I can get a good position and a big enough gun-" His proposal was drowned out by the roar of the alien as a new factor entered the situation.

Buffy came running up, and stood on the perimeter with her hands on her hips. Despite her pajamas, she seemed formidable, powerful. "Now, would someone please tell me what a girl's gotta do to get some sleep around here?" she demanded.

The Xenomorph's entire attitude changed at once. Both its inner and outer jaws opened wide as the alien hissed furiously. Ordinarily, it regarded its enemies with a cold, calculating caution, but when it came to the yellow-furred little creature who'd wounded and imprisoned it, who had actually come close to threatening its survival, rage took hold in its mind.

Buffy saw the enormous alien pivot as if to charge her, and wondered if it might have been a good idea to have brought with her something more substantial than Mr. Pointy. Suddenly, Riley sprang forward wielding a very impressive-looking grenade launcher. Interposing himself between the creature and Buffy, he pointed the weapon at its head. "Don't even try it," he warned. All the other Initiative soldiers moved forward as one, safeties clicking off.

The Xenomorph paused. The attack of these creatures would destroy its prisoner, might even harm the alien itself. Slowly, the alien shifted Professor Walsh back to its primary arms, removing the claw from her neck, and Traeten sighed in relief-

Faster than anyone could react, the Xenomorph hurled Walsh at Riley. She crashed limply into his midsection, bowling him over. Fortunately, he retained the presence of mind not to fire the grenade launcher as he went down. As he fell, the creature made a flying leap onto the roof of the nearest Humvee. The roof of the vehicle crumpled like cardboard while the windows cracked and burst outwards under the creature's weight. The commandos held their fire as the Xenomorph's mighty legs tensed for another jump, unwilling to risk hitting their comrades around the Humvee, who were diving to the ground as the alien's long tail flailed amongst them. Then the alien leaped again, claws digging into the wall of a nearby building, and the soldiers opened up. Bullets chewed the wall and the Xenomorph's shell as it swiftly scrambled up the wall, over the roof, and was gone.

And then it was off, leaping from building to building leaving a trail of dislodged shingles behind. The soldiers stood there, dismayed. Buffy didn't. She sprinted after it, trying to keep track of it. She heard Riley shouting after her, telling her to wait up, but kept on going. Hostile 100 wasn't going to wait for her backup, and neither was she.

The chase was silent, the only sounds being Buffy's ragged breathing, the WHUMP that came every time the Xenomorph landed on a building, and the sound of sirens in the distance as reports of a large animal on the loose began to filter into the police station from the rudely awakened residents of the buildings Hostile 100 was using as stepping stones.

Then, at the edge of the campus, there was another WHUMP, then a scrabbling sound as it slid down the side of the building opposite from Buffy. "Damn!" She sprinted around the building, but the Xenomorph had vanished down a side street. It had escaped. There was nothing but claw marks on the wall as evidence that it had ever been there at all.

By morning, the marks would have been altered by Initiative specialists, and a popular subject of discussion at the breakfast table would be what a bear could have been doing in Sunnydale last night.


	11. Aftermath

It was warm outside, but that didn't stop Jacob Traeten from shivering as he sat in Professor Walsh's classroom, facing her, Riley, Giles, and Buffy. It was the morning after Hostile 100's violent and destructive escape, and everyone wanted answers. And, since he had supervised the modifications to the creature's cell- the modifications which had mysteriously shut down, releasing the Xenomorph- they were looking at him for those answers.

"Y'know, I seem to recall some crazy guy telling me that thing was never, ever going to get out. Guaranteed it, actually," Buffy's words dripped venom. "You might have seen him- guy about your height, really nice suit, smiles a lot?"

Traeten made a helpless gesture. "I really don't know what went wrong. One second the shield was functioning perfectly, the next there was no power at all. There's no clue what caused it, or even where the power failure originated from. All the circuits and mechanisms are in perfect working order."

Walsh regarded the man coolly, making him resist the urge to squirm. Even with a cold pack pressed against her head- a souvenir of her too-close encounter with Hostile 100- the Professor was intimidating, and she was especially threatening now that her own life had been endangered. Riley wasn't happy either.

"Is that what you want me to tell the men?" he demanded. "Jones was one of our best new recruits, and one of Forrest's favorites, and now he's dead. We're sending him home to his family without a face."

"We've lost Hicks too," Walsh said grimly. "He'll be lucky if he ever walks again."

"Damn… I liked Hicks," Traeten said. "And Riley, believe me, I understand the bond between comrades in arms. My Daddy served in 'Nam, and he always told me how he and the boys in his unit were like brothers. I know that all the men are hurting right now, especially since the thing that did this to you got away. I really wish I could tell you more, but I just don't know what happened. I promise I'll do whatever I can to help set things right."

The intense sincerity and remorse in his voice mollified Riley. Buffy suddenly felt pangs of guilt within her. She might not have Traeten all figured out yet, but it wasn't fair to be helping Walsh treat him like a scapegoat- especially since she had been the one who let the Xenomorph get away. She excused herself from the room. Giles followed her.

"Buffy, I do hope you aren't feeling in any way responsible for what happened last night." Giles said to his Slayer in the hallway. He knew her well enough to tell when she was taking a setback in stride, and when she was taking it personally.

"The thing's bigger than an SUV Giles, and I managed to lose it. More people will probably die because Slayer powers don't include night-vision. Meanwhile I'm in there helping Walsh lynch some businessman just because she has a grudge. And Riley's angry about that guard getting killed..."

Giles recognized the root of Buffy's anxiety. "Buffy, not only am I certain that Riley doesn't blame you for this incident, I'm willing to bet that the thought hasn't and never will even occur to him to hold you responsible. I'm sure the only reason he was in that room was because he and his men want answers, be they from Mr. Traeten or anywhere else. And about Traeten..."

Giles paused to clean his glasses before continuing. "I know he seems very likable, especially when compared to that…shrew. And it is refreshing to meet an American who has an interest in books beyond those of Tom Clancy… But he is a businessman, a representative of a corporation which specializes in shady dealings. I think we would do well to keep in mind that for someone in his field, it's oftentimes imperative to act likeable in order to achieve your goals. I for one think his enthusiasm rings somewhat false."

Buffy was suddenly reminded of how the man had reminded her of Ted, and the look in his eyes when he'd been gazing at the pupa. "I don't know what's up with him, but there's sure more to him than just some guy in a suit," she mused. "Maybe-"

Riley entered the hallway. "Hey, it looks like they're wrapping things up in there." He noticed the serious looks on Giles and Buffy's faces. "What's up?"

Buffy smiled. "Nothing," she said. "We were just talking about Traeten. Do you know why Walsh is being so hard on him?"

"From what I hear, he occasionally overstepped his authority while working on Hostile 100, and Maggie just hates to be upstaged, even a little." He sighed. "Remind me to apologize to him once she's done grilling him, will you? I just got a little frustrated. I didn't know him well or anything, but Jones was a very promising guy."

"Is there anything I can do?" Buffy asked.

"Besides helping with alien-hunting, I don't think so." He smiled. "I know where to reach you if I need you. I've got to go, the men will want to know about the lack of answerage."

"Okay." Buffy kissed him before he left.

* * *

Later that night, after classes and patrolling, Buffy discussed the day's events with Willow in the dorm room.

"I guess it was pretty silly of me to think Riley would suddenly hate me just because I couldn't stop the thing with my bare hands," the Slayer admitted. "But Riley's the first stable relationship I've had who hasn't tried to destroy the world. I was afraid of losing him."

"Hmm. Do you think Giles was right about Traeten?" Willow asked. "I mean, I think he's really nice. He treats us like real grownups, instead of a bunch of kids who don't know what they're doing."

"Yeah, but the way he treated the alien gives me the creeps." Buffy said.

"What are we going to do about the alien, anyway? Now that that thing's loose… well, yikes. It's not like we can steal another rocket launcher," said Willow.

"I don't think the Initiative's going to lend us one, either. Actually Riley says there are still charges pending for the last one we stole- though he said the Initiative would take care of those. What worries me is finding the thing in the first place. For something so big, it sure knows how to keep a low profile. And the longer we spend looking for it, the more time it has alone to do… whatever it is killer aliens do when they're running around."

Willow yawned. "I'm too tired to think of alien-busting. Maybe morning will bring new light," she said perkily before turning in.

_Or a higher body count,_ thought Buffy, but she kept it to herself as she closed her eyes.


	12. Blood Trail

At about the same time the Slayer was closing her eyes, Spike was in Willie's nursing a pint. It was about the only demon bar in town with both decent booze and blood, and it was a great place to find useful information. Even better, despite the chip it was easy to "convince" Willy to extend his tab.

Spike was just about to down his drink and leave when the door burst open. The regular clientele scurried for cover, thinking that the Slayer was raiding the place for information yet again. Instead, a badly wounded and hysterical green-scaled demon stood in the doorway carrying something in its hand. The demon babbled and raved incoherently, heedless of the blood dripping from the hole in his chest.

"It killed Grishna! It killed- It took Uglui- Grishna- We were just out and it came nowhere and rrrurrk-" Just as it looked like the demon was regaining his composure, his wound got the better of him and he fell facefirst onto the floor, dead. From his lifeless hand rolled the thing he'd had been holding: the partially crushed head of another demon of the same species.

There was silence for a moment, than the entire bar of demons and vampires reacted much like humans- they all started talking. Spike, remaining silent, finished his drink and strode over to the body.

He couldn't recall what breed this demon was, but he did know that although this species wasn't especially renowned for their smarts or ambition, they were still pretty tough. Spike took a close look at the remains. The wound which had killed the demon went straight through his chest; it looked like he'd been impaled from behind. It was a miracle he'd managed to get to Willy's at all, let alone talk. And the head he'd been holding… Spike picked it up off the ground, resisting the urge to call it Yorick. Even crushed, the head was larger than that of the other dead demon. This one had probably been the strongest, and therefore the leader. But that hadn't stopped the attacker from decapitating him. What was really impressive was that no weapon had done this- the head hadn't been cut off, but simply pulled off with sheer brute force.

This was interesting, and a good opportunity. If something was running around town that tore demon heads off for kicks, it made sense to tell the Slayer and co. about it, since 1. They might pay him for the information. 2. They might know something about the creature, specifically whether it went after vamps. 3. Most importantly, if Buffy knew about it, she'd probably go after it. And then she might get her pretty head torn off, although Spike knew it was a long shot.

Spike tucked the head under his arm, being careful not to get any blood on his duster, and strode out of Willy's, unnoticed by the bar's still-talking inhabitants.

* * *

"Hey," Xander said as he and Anya entered Giles' house the next afternoon. "What's-" Giles thrust a book into his hands. "-up?"

"Buffy had a chance to confer with Professor Walsh today," Giles explained as he handed Anya a book and they sat down with Buffy, who was already poring through their own texts, and Willow, who was at work on her laptop. "She said the Initiative has yet to turn up any leads on the alien's whereabouts, but she's not worried. She believes that a creature of Hostile 100's size will need to eat a great deal, which means we'll hear from it soon enough."

"So her plan is to wait until it eats someone, then bring the hammer down?" Xander asked.

"Essentially, yes. And I think we can agree that it's not at all satisfactory. I want to find out if this creature's ever been encountered before, whether it's ever appeared on this world and been defeated."

"Okay, but don't get your hopes up," Anya warned as she opened her book. "I've never heard of anything like this thing before, and it sounds like the sort of thing which would make quite the buzz in the monster community. There's been a few demons who can be summoned from the stars, though."

"We'll try looking at those creatures first, then," Giles said. "If we can find any reference at all-"

He stopped talking as they heard a metallic noise outside, followed by the sound of something running towards the door. Giles took a look outside, sighed, and opened the door as a sizzling Spike dove in and rolled on the floor until the smoke stopped rising. Looking out the window, the ex-Watcher could see the manhole cover Spike had emerged from before making his dash.

"Well, if it isn't our favorite Christopher Lee wannabe," said Xander.

"Y'know, you people could really start holding these get-togethers at night. Be a hell of a lot more convenient for some of us," Spike said as he got up and shot a look at Xander.

"What is it Spike?" sighed Giles.

"Nothing much. Just got a little present for you lot," Spike said as he tossed something in a bag to Buffy.

Buffy opened the bag, saw what looked like the mutilated head of a demon. She looked at Spike quizzically.

"That lucky little bugger had his head ripped clean off the other night. One of his pals took a hole in the chest and stumbled over to Willie's before kicking the bucket. Sounded like whatever it was got two more of them too," Spike said.

Giles inspected the head. "This wasn't done with a weapon," he said.

"Do you think it's the alien?" asked Buffy.

"Almost certainly," said Giles. He turned to Spike. "Do you know where this happened?"

Spike shrugged. "Nope. And what's this about an… alien?"

Giles sighed as he remembered that since the egg hatched, Spike had been keeping his nose out of this business. "Do you remember that night you were robbing me, and saved my life?"

"Can't say I'm proud..."

"The creature you and I encountered wasn't a demon. It was an extraterrestial. And since then, it's mutated and grown into something that may very well have been capable of this." He motioned at the head.

"Hell," Spike said, "a bloody ET, eh? Any idea what your favorite Martian's policy towards vamps is?"

"No, but I don't mind telling you I hope it's an unfavorable one."

Buffy stood up, started pacing. "Spike, do you know where these guys might have been when they were attacked?"

"Well, I've heard that they liked snacking on pigeons over in Weatherly Park."

"Okay then," Buffy said, "tomorrow night Riley and me go with as much backup as we can get to the Park to check it out. If the alien is there, I want to have an advantage."

"Um... Are you planning on telling Riley you got this tip from one of the Initiative's escaped science projects?" Xander pointed out, eyeing Spike.

Buffy sighed. "I guess I'll have to leave that part out. But Riley probably won't ask any questions. Curiousity doesn't seem to be encouraged where he works."

"Hey guys, I think I just found something," said Willow from the computer.

They gathered around to look. Willow had found the website of a tabloid paper, with a headline screaming "Corporate Scientists Terrorized by Otherworldly Menace in the Mongolian Desert!" A number of uncomprehending glances were directed at Willow. She highlighted a word in the main text.

Ravnon. The company Jacob Traeten worked for.

"Either it's a remarkable coincidence, or Mr. Traeten may have more expertise in these matters than he's told us about," remarked Giles.

Spike was puzzled again. "Would it be too much to ask to be kept informed about certain things, like what you all are talking about? Maybe you could have the Errand Boy," he jerked his thumb at Xander, "drop off bulletins to the crypt or something."

"Never mind Spike," said Giles. "I doubt it concerns you."

"Yeah, and I believe my position in this group is known as the Indispensable Bringer of Sarcasm," said Xander. "Not 'Errand Boy".

"Fine," Buffy said. "First I'll sweep the park, then we'll find a chance to get Traeten alone and ask him some questions- without letting the Initiative know about it. If Walsh knew about this article, she'd probably use it as an excuse to nail him to the wall." Anything else?"

Spike coughed.

"Oh yeah, and someone pay Spike."


	13. Midnight Melee

Weatherly Park.

Last time Buffy had been here, it was to hunt a vampire with a fork for a hand. Back then, the Park had been crawling with homeless, those who, for lack of luck, effort, or ability, had been denied the American Dream, one of the more disappointingly normal things in an otherwise abnormal town. However, thanks to the fact that reducing unemployment had been part of the late Mayor Wilkins' re-election platform, the homeless had since almost all vanished. There had been one or two questions about where they'd all gone, but for the most part the town's population was satisfied by another Wilkins Solution- especially the man-eating citizens.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Buffy looked over her shoulder at Riley and his squad. She smiled. "Nothing. It's just this place has serious deja vu for me. I'll tell you about it sometime."

Riley had certainly gotten them backup, she thought. Graham, Forrest, and Mason had all come along, packing flak vests, taser blasters, batons, and stun and nerve gas grenades. Professor Walsh's instructions had been clear: take the creature alive if at all possible. They were relying mostly on the nerve gas, since in general Mac-Daddy sized aliens don't care much about small-arms fire. But it was unknown how the thing's body would handle the gas; for all they knew, it could be the atmosphere of Hostile 100's home planet. That's why the group was just the recon force; if contact was made, a swarm of Humvees were standing by to descend on the park, loaded with troops and heavy weaponry.

For her part, Buffy had opted for a machete, stake, and a couple of throwing axes. The machete was proven against exoskeletons, having made short work of Ms. French. The throwing axes were more flexible in close quarters than a crossbow, but were still sharp enough to put some chinks in alien armor. At the insistence of Riley, she'd also brought one of the rubber gas masks the commandoes had, even though the L.A. part of her considered the ugly thing further evidence that the military of today was woefully underfunded in the fashion department. And she just felt better with a stake in her pocket.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. The night air was cool and still, and not a sound could be heard in the park. It could have made a very pleasant date if not for the otherwordly menace bit, and Forrest quietly grumbling to the other soldiers about how he wanted 'to do some alien-hunting, not chaperone the lovebirds on a moonlight stroll, I joined this outfit to take names, not…".

Riley spoke up again. "Good or bad?"

"Hm?"

"Your deja vu."

"Oh, so-so. Vampire hunt that turned into something weirder. Oh-", she pointed at the opening in the bushes where, four years ago, the claw-vamp had leapt at her. The bushes had grown slightly, but other than that she might as well be sixteen again. "That's where-"

"Sh!" Forrest suddenly held up his fist, and all chatter and movement ceased. The commando stalked forward and shined his light on what he'd seen.

"Blood. And tracks. They both look fresh," he said, indicating the red droplets that had caught his eye in the moonlight, with large clawed footprints beside them, leading both towards and away from the opening. "Can't tell-"

Suddenly and silently, a shape leapt out of the shadows within the tunnel and bore Forrest to the ground. Buffy sprang forward without thinking, swinging the machete. The blade struck hard into the creature's side with an impact that sent shivers up Buffy's arms. Squealing, the creature leapt off of Forrest and was bathed in light as the Initiative soldiers trained their weapons on it.

It was an adult alien, and it looked nasty. It was a good foot taller than the one Buffy had fought in her kitchen, and much bulkier and more heavily muscled. The claws were longer, and the mouth was much bigger, made for crushing bone and tearing meat, with jaw muscles bulging out of its neck. It was also a dark green, and on its skull-dome were ridges reminiscent of scales. It had no spikes on its back, unlike the alien from the house. Green blood oozed from a crack in its side, courtesy of Buffy's machete.

There was a moment's pause as the humans took in this new creature and what its presence meant- and then Riley acted. "Buffy, down!" He yelled. As she jumped out of the way, she could see Mason helping Forrest up, and hear Graham calling on his radio for the Humvees to enter the park. Mostly, however, she saw and heard Riley's blaster as he opened fire, zapping the creature squarely on the head. Forgetting all about Buffy, it instead turned and charged headlong at Riley, shrugging off further bolts from the other soldiers like electric gnats.

Buffy ran at the alien and threw herself at it, trying to tackle it before it could shred her boyfriend. She grabbed its leg and threw her weight against the knee, trying to force it back on itself and break it. The alien bone, muscle, and shell yielded only a few inches, but that was enough to send the alien crashing to the ground, only a few feet from Riley, who took advantage of the save to pull his squad out of harm's way and formulate a plan.

Growling like a rabid dog, the alien flailed at Buffy with its tail, trying to stick her with the poison tip. She dodged, then saw Riley waving at her to get away as he drew a grenade from his belt. Without hesitating, she hurled herself away. The creature was turning to follow her when the stun grenade went off.

Buffy landed hard in the grass as there was a titanic flash from behind her, and a noise like the beginning of Judgement Day. All sound suddenly left her world, and as she turned around, she was glad that she hadn't been facing the flash. Even though it had no visible eyes or ears, the alien was staggering drunkenly, shaking its head in an effort to get rid of the effects of the flash-bang. In this state, it was easy for Graham to nail it with the gas grenade.

As Buffy and the soldiers hastily pulled on their masks, the silvery sphere hit the ground, bounced once, and rolled to a stop at the alien's feet. Green gas spewed from it, forming billowing clouds, hiding the alien from sight. Buffy also noticed the grenade hissing; her hearing was returning.

The gas began to dissipate, its particles sinking to the ground as the cloud fell apart, and the humans saw the alien. It was barely standing on all fours, legs quivering with the effort. Its body was twitching uncontrollably. Drool dripped from its mouth. But it still wasn't down. Its head swiveled left, then right, as it tried to compose itself. Riley nodded at his squad, and they moved in, meaning to finish the job with taser fire. Suddenly, the alien growled quietly, its throat partially paralyzed by the gas, and charged clumsily at its tormentors on all fours, swaying as it tried to keep its balance.

Caught off guard by this attack from an enemy they'd thought beaten, the commandoes scattered before the alien could tear into them. But Mason was a little slow. As he rolled out of the way, the alien swerved towards him and pounced, pinning him down and doing its half-paralyzed best to rip him to shreds.

As Buffy drew the throwing axe from her coat pocket, she wondered what the hell was keeping the Humvees. Then Mason screamed, and she let her instincts take over. It was a good throw, considering she wasn't used to fighting with a gas mask on, nailing the creature in the middle of the back. The blade bit deeply into the shell, and acid blood began to flow and drip to the ground. As it burned steaming pits in the dirt, the alien stopped cutting up Mason long enough to snarl at her, giving Riley an opportunity to make his move.

"Grilled cheese, execute!" He yelled, and then Riley tackled the alien from behind, holding the deadly tail between his legs. At the same time Graham and Forrest somersaulted into position on either side of the alien, jammed their taser blasters against each side of its head, and fired at point-blank range into the creature's skull. A moment before they fired, Riley rolled of the creature so as to avoid being fried by his own men. The alien wasn't so lucky; blue waves of electricity cascaded through its body, making it shake and jerk uncontrollably before it finally collapsed on the ground.

There was a pause during which no one moved, or took their eyes of the (hopefully) unconscious alien. Then, there was a growing roar of engines in the distance, then feet running, voices shouting. Buffy sighed. The cavalry had arrived just in time for the clean-up.


	14. Ambushed

The commander of the Initiative's Humvee group, Private First Class Walter Harmel, looked like a German tank commander straight out of a WWII movie, the sort of person who would be at home blitzkrieging Panzers across the French countryside. This only made the young, fair-haired soldier's current attitude all the more amusing. Buffy had to smile at the spectacle of Harmel, who was a good head taller than Riley, all but prostrating himself before the shorter man.

"I am so very sorry that this happened," Harmel said, "but the man simply would not listen to any sort of reason. I suspect he may have been slightly drunk, actually. Nonetheless, I take full responsibility for not supporting your men, and-"

Riley raised a hand. "At ease, soldier." He was trying not to smile either, but at the same time was angry at not getting his backup, especially considering the reason. After they'd come to Sunnydale, the Initiative soldiers had quickly learned of its astronomical death rate, and of the near-total failure of the police to even recognize the problem, let alone deal with it. A joke quickly began making the rounds: 'The S.P.D. To serve and protect- demons." It was only later, after hearing about the Mayor's true nature and the cover-ups among city officials, that they'd discovered how tragically accurate the joke had been. Tonight's incident had only served to reinforce Riley's contempt for the Initiative's civilian counterparts.

According to Harmel, the Humvees had been about to move in after getting Graham's call when an S.P.D. patrol car rolled up and a constable had loudly demanded to know what was going on. Apparently, the concept of 'military jurisdiction' wasn't something he'd been taught in police training. When the stun grenade had gone off in the park, he'd promptly drawn his gun on the whole force and called for backup, reporting 'possible terrorist activity'. At this point Harmel's patience had run out, and his command car had "gently nudged the officer's vehicle out of our way," he assured. "No harm done at all. He wasn't very happy, but no harm done."

Buffy thought this was bizarre. Sunnydale's police tended towards the incompetent, but what Harmel had described was pure looniness. She would definitely have to look into this.

A snarling and shouts distracted them. Although bound by several lengths of high-tech filament that made steel elevator cable look like Silly String, the newly-conscious alien was being quite lively as it was carefully loaded into the back of a specially reinforced truck. Several armed guards stood nearby, looking quite apprehensive. Mason was there too, lying stiffly on the ground and giving the creature the evil eye. At the moment, that was all he could do, thanks to the alien. The creature hadn't been able to tear him apart when it jumped him, but it had jabbed him with its tail, causing Mason to learn the hard way that the tail's venom produced swift-paralysis in the victim. However, the medics said that the effect was probably temporary, and had also verified that Forrest hadn't been injured when the creature tackled him. All-in-all, Riley thought, it could have been much worse.

Riley walked over to Buffy, having convinced Harmel that he wasn't going to be demoted. "So what happens now?" she asked.

"The alien? It'll be sent back to the Initiative to be studied. We still haven't figured out how the last one got loose, though, so we'll have to be extra careful. Not only that, but we had another unexplained power failure today, just like the one which let out Hostile 100. The phone lines just cut out on us for twenty minutes, and we still don't know why. "

"That's not good," she said. "But I meant what happens now that there's more than one of these things? Where did this alien come from? Either the big one is making little ones, or more eggs are landing. I don't know which is worse."

Riley nodded his agreement as Graham came up. "We're about ready to move out here."

"One sec," Riley said, "I want to have a closer look at those tracks Forrest saw before it jumped him. We'll follow them into the tunnel a short way, then catch up to you in a few minutes."

Graham eyed the opening in the bushes distrustfully. "Are you sure it's a good idea to go by yourselves?"

"I just want to see where that blood came from. We won't go too deep. Keep your channel open in case we run into trouble."

Graham nodded and jogged off as the first Humvees started pulling out. Riley turned towards Buffy as they began walking back to the bushes. "You said these tunnels are connected to the sewers?"

Buffy nodded. "They're all over town, and they've got openings in the graveyards as well. The Master used to use them to move his vampires around, and most of them are still intact. If Hostile 100's set up shop there, we're gonna have a tough time finding it."

"And then there's the problem of stopping it," Riley said. "We've thought of several ideas, but they all involve artillery or attack helicopters. Nothing too covert."

They were at the opening. The tracks and blood had been smeared when Forrest fell on them, but as they moved further into the darkness of the tunnel, Riley's flashlight lighting their way, the clues became clear once more. There was also a trail in the dirt, as if something had been dragged through it. A thought occurred to Buffy.

"If Hostile 100 is reproducing somehow, its kids will probably need hosts just like it did. What if the alien had just captured somebody to be the next lucky parent when we showed up? Blood from the victim, tracks from the alien."

"Makes sense," Riley agreed. "If that is the case, we'll have to call back the troops and go in, no matter what. There's no way we can let someone die like… that."

"And remember the demons I told you about that got killed here last night?" She asked. Riley nodded, and Buffy once again thought a prayer of thanks that he hadn't thought to ask where she'd learned about the demons in the park when she'd asked him to round up a team. He'd been too excited at finally having a lead to wonder about the source of the tip. She hadn't quite figured out how to tell Riley that a vampire- one which had escaped from the Initiative to boot- was working with her under her protection. And an alien invasion definitely wasn't the best time for these things. Still, she felt guilty at hiding things. She'd tell him soon, she resolved, when this was over.

"I was thinking, what if one of them was taken alive?" she continued. "That tech guy said these things take on the DNA of their hosts to adapt to their environments. If that thing was a demon/alien hybrid, it would explain why it was bigger and dumber than the one I fought at my home."

"That's probably it," said Riley. "And a lot of subterrestials have faster growth rates than humans. That might explain why it's full grown already if the attack happened last night. Hey, look at the tracks..."

Up ahead, the trail became unclear. The floor of the tunnel was smeared all over, as if there'd been a struggle. Buffy and Riley knelt to examine the ground.

"Looks like whatever it was woke up," Riley said. "It was wounded and knocked out by the Xenomorph when it was captured, but it didn't stay down."

"Alien got it back under control in a hurry though," Buffy said, pointing up ahead, where the tunnel curved and the trail became normal again, with the prey being dragged. There were more blood spots as well, indicating the alien hadn't been very gentle.

"Buffy, look," Riley said as he indicated a spot on the ground where the prey had gotten on its feet briefly before the alien had put it down again. There, disfigured by the struggle but still easily recognizable, was a dog's paw print.

"So it's a dog," she said. "Do we keep going?"

Riley already had his walkie-talkie out, turning towards the entrance for better reception. "Let me check," he said as called the Humvee command car. There was a crackle of static, and Harmel's voice came from the speaker.

"Corporal, is that you? Over."

"Affirmative. Can you patch me through to Professor Walsh from there? Over."

"One moment please. Over."

More crackling, then Walsh's voice: "Agent Finn? Report. Over."

"Look out!" Buffy made a lunge at Riley, her hand shooting past his shoulder to grab something behind him. He twisted out of the way to see her holding a yellow, nightmarish creature by the tail, its many legs kicking. As the small alien wriggled in her hands, she swung it by its tail as hard as she could into the tunnel's wall. Dust exploded from the wall as the creature impacted, but it continued to struggle. Buffy began to draw it back for another swing, but it suddenly flipped itself over, latched onto her arm and started trying to crawl for her face. She shrieked involuntarily as she tried to keep a tight hold on the tail, the creature's legs scrabbling frantically at her arms.

Riley dropped the radio and drew his sidearm, ignoring the shouts coming over the speaker as Walsh demanded to know what was happening. "Buffy, drop it!"

She needed little encouragement, and threw the spiderlike creature to the ground between her and Riley. Before it could regain its feet he fired, putting three bullets through its center. Green liquid spurted with each shot, smoke rising where it landed. The creature's legs twitched spasmodically, then were still.

"Uh, Riley.." Buffy sounded worried.

"Don't worry. It's dead," he said.

"Look!" she pointed at his boot, where a glob of acid was beginning to eat through. Riley's eyes widened with shock, and he hastily kicked off the boot before the acid could start on his foot.

"Riley! What's happening over there?" Walsh was beginning to sound annoyed as well as worried.

"Sorry about that, Professor," Riley said as he picked up the talkie. "We got jumped by another alien, this one in prelarval form. It's dead now. Also, it looks like the hostile we just fought had captured a dog and was bringing it back to wherever it was staying. I'm pretty sure this means Hostile 100's breeding somehow. Buffy thinks the form we captured may have been the result of a subterrestial being impregnated by the alien, and that the dog's heading the same way. Should we call back the Humvees and go in? Over."

There was a pause on the other end as Walsh mulled over her options. "Negative," she said reluctantly. "We don't know what we're facing or where it is, and we have some problems right now. Bring the dead alien back to base, then report for an emergency conference ASAP. Over."

Riley switched off the radio, and picked up his damaged boot. "That's that," he said. "Let's bag the specimen and go, before any more of these things show up."

"You bag it. I've touched that thing enough for one night."

* * *

As the Slayer and her boyfriend left the tunnel and split up, Buffy heading for Giles', Riley for the Initiative, less-than-friendly eyes watched them.

Spike scowled as he stubbed out his cigarette. It had been a fun show to watch, no doubt, what with seeing that new creature almost shredding a few soldier-boys. He could certainly see how it could have taken down a few demons. But that didn't make up for the mud on his coat. Once those military goons had shown up in their cars and started crawling all over the place, he'd been forced to hide like a rat in the nearest ditch until they left. Then the Slayer and her lap dog had gone back in the tunnel for some reason, and he'd heard shots. He couldn't figure out what had happened in there, which annoyed him even more. And the Slayer… the new beastie hadn't come close to getting rid of her, which was why Spike had come out here in the first place. Still, he supposed the night hadn't been completely wasted. It always paid to stay on top of things, after all, and-

Spike whirled around and listened. The metallic scraping sound he'd heard didn't repeat itself. It had come from behind him, most likely the street.

Stalking forward until he emerged from the park, he found a manhole cover ajar, steam billowing from the sewer within. He remembered that, like the tunnel in the park where the creature had jumped the Slayer and her pals, this was one of the entrances to the Master's old turf. He looked around, checking whether anything had emerged from the hole.

Seeing and smelling nothing, he chalked it up to one more puzzlement this night and downed the rest of the Thermos he'd brought. The portable hot plate he'd swiped from the dump had done a lovely job of returning the pig's blood to body temperature, and the container had kept it at the right heat throughout the night. Although the flavor was slightly diluted, overall a little warmth made the stand-in for human blood much more palatable. Spike felt his body warming up the way it used to after a kill as the red liquid entered his system. It was a noticeably pleasant change compared to the gunk he got from Giles' fridge, he thought.

Something else noticed the change too.

Spike hadn't taken a look inside the manhole itself. As he lowered the mug and turned to leave, he suddenly felt something strike his back. His instincts took over in a flash, and he dropped the Thermos as he reached for whatever was on him. His hands closed around empty air, and he felt the thing scrambling up his neck, onto his head-

Feeling the beginnings of panic, Spike dove for the ground, somersaulting in an effort to shake whatever it was. It stuck tight to his scalp, however, and the last thing Spike thought before it scurried onto his face was whether the thing was making a mess of his hair.

Then its moist body covered his face, blocking his vision, and Spike realized he was being attacked by the same kind of face-hugging thing that he'd pulled off of Giles. Hair became the least of his worries as he felt a tube forcing open his mouth and sliding down his throat. He tried in vain to pull the creature off his face- it's a lot easier to pull an alien parasite off a face when its not your face in question, and Spike found himself unable to get a decent hold on the thing's slimy surface. Pain began to jab at him as the creature's grip dug into the flesh of his face. He toppled to the ground, feeling his hold on consciousness beginning to fade as the facehugger forced something into him through that awful tube.

_The Slayer never said there was more than one,_ he thought. _This is HER fault... Damn her, damn her, damn her..._

And then blackness took him.


	15. Alien Nation

A/N: I was watching "Listening to Fear" (the episode with the Queller) the other night, and it's explicitly said there that Buffy and co. have never encountered an extraterrestial before, and that this story is impossible. But we'll just pretend those lines of dialogue never happened, shall we?

* * *

"Please sit down gentlemen." Professor Walsh had gotten over her close encounter with Hostile 100 and was back to her brusque self as Dr. Angleman, Riley, and Traeten filed into the conference room. "We don't have much time. The situation is nearing critical-"

Suddenly every light in the room vanished, plunging the place into blackness. Shouts could be heard from outside the room. Walsh sighed. "See what I mean?" Her voice, disembodied by the darkness, sounded sardonically amused.

The lights flickered and came back on. Walsh sighed. "That's the fourth incident so far, counting the failure that led to the specimen's escape," she said. "Then there were the phone lines earlier today, an incident half an hour ago during which the coffee machine went berserk, and now this. It's only a matter of time before security systems fail, and we have another containment breach. We need all personnel concentrated here, to defend against the worst-case scenario. That means we can spare little for the Xenomorph problem, which Riley tells me is beginning to grow beyond our control. Riley, tell them what happened tonight."

"My team and Buffy encountered a full-grown Xenomorph in Weatherly Park," he said. "It was larger, more aggressive, and stronger than the full-grown creature Buffy encountered in her home. She thought that this creature may be the result of a sub-terrestial being captured and impregnated, and I'm inclined to agree. We subdued and captured it, though Mason was injured in the exchange, and it is now being held here. I'm told special measures have been taken to ensure its security."

_There's an understatement,_ thought Professor Walsh. The alien was being held in a regular cell, but two M-60 machine guns mounted on motorized tripods were trained on it, linked to an automatic firing system. If anything entered the space outside the alien's cell, it would be torn apart by armor-piercing slugs in an instant. It rendered that section of the hallway impassable to Initiative personnel, but it would certainly minimize the damage of a breakout. Though no one knew what to do about the acid that would be spilled all over the place...

"The Xenomorph attacked us outside one of the entrances to the tunnel networks running beneath the town. Before we encountered it, Forrest noted blood and tracks leading into the tunnel. As the team was pulling out, I decided to stay behind with Buffy to investigate. We determined that the alien had captured a dog for impregnation by Hostile 100, assuming that it is breeding. At this time, an alien in prelarval form attacked us. I don't know what it was doing there. We eliminated the prelarval creature, secured its remains for study, then withdrew from the area. The bottom line is that Hostile 100 has chosen the old tunnels as its habitat, and two new Xenomorphs that we know of have appeared in the 48 hours after its escape."

Walsh looked pensive. "No new meteors have fallen anywhere near Sunnydale all week. There hasn't been so much as a shooting star. That rules out new organisms arriving from space. Which leaves reproduction." She turned to Angleman. "Is it possible? Could Hostile 100 be reproducing by itself?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "I've been reviewing Technician Hicks' notes, taken while Hostile 100 was captive, and have found nothing to support asexual reproduction, nor anything to discount it. We simply have no idea how these things reproduce. However, it does seem to be the only explanation for the new creatures. As for the rest, an underground habitat would be rather cramped for something of Hostile 100's size, but otherwise would be ideal while it was trying to hide from us. I won't be able to confirm the sub-terrestial hypothesis until I've seen the captive firsthand."

Walsh sighed. "You see the problem then," she said. "The Xenomorphs are multiplying quickly, and even a few are extremely dangerous. They've entrenched themselves where it will be difficult to locate them, and where they can move throughout the city undetected. And, due to these malfunctions, we don't have the manpower to deal with the problem without exposing the entire operation to destruction."

"Excuse me, Professor?" asked Traeten. "I might have an idea."

Walsh looked at him closely before responding. "Go on."

"One of the technologies Ravnon has developed thanks to our partnership with the Initiative is a small mobile laboratory based on your facility, complete with a containment area using the same electrical fields the Initiative does, and a self-contained power source. The product was meant for sale to biological field expeditions to hazardous regions such as the Amazon. We only have a prototype built as of now, but I think we can have it flown here from L.A. within 24 hours. You could then move one or two of your more dangerous specimens there while this business with the malfunctions is resolved."

It was a painfully obvious attempt to get his hands on the alien, thought Walsh. But it was also just what she needed. With her biggest internal threat secure elsewhere, enough personnel could be freed up to deal with the Xenomorphs once and for all. _Let him poke around with the thing,_ she decided. _As long as he doesn't let it get loose, I don't care what he learns from it. Once these malfunctions have ended, we'll get it back and it will become part of 314. Some good could come of this yet._

She smiled at Traeten. "We greatly appreciate your company's generosity in this matter, Mr. Traeten," she said. "Will you let me know when your facility has arrived?"

Traeten smiled back, as Riley and Angleman exchanged puzzled looks. "Of course, Professor."

* * *

"And then one of those crazy facehugger things that attacked you tried to jump Riley, but I grabbed it just in time, and-" Buffy noticed that Giles did not share her late-night energy for this matter, and in fact was yawning rather noticeably. She'd come to his apartment straight from the Park instead of going back to the dorm, once she'd realized the implications of what she'd found that night.

"Giles. Focus. End of the world here."

"Hrrm?" Giles managed to force his eyes open and look at Buffy, who was regarding him reproachfully for a change. "Well, it is three in the morning!" he protested. "Are you quite sure it's that serious?"

"Let's see... Each Xenomorph is 100 killing machine. It looks like somehow H-100 is reproducing, and has made two little monsters _that we know of_ in two days. Plus there's that dog-"

"Yes, yes, I see." Giles was now quite awake, and began to pace. "You're saying that at this rate of reproduction, it won't be long before the Xenomorph population swells to a catastrophic level. And once the town can no longer hold them, and Hostile 100 begins sending its young out to establish colonies elsewhere..."

"Today the Hellmouth, tomorrow the world," said Buffy.

"I see. Forgive me for not being more attentive, it's been a rather trying day..." Giles stopped pacing and cleaned his glasses instead.

"Lots of book shuffling?" asked Buffy.

"Lots of book reading," corrected Giles. "After what Willow found on the Internet, I've been trying to find a clue as to how and why this egg, and possibly more, landed on our planet, as well as double-checking our research from yesterday to make sure whether this creature has been encountered before. But there's nothing, nothing at all in any of the manuscripts."

"That doesn't happen very often," observed Buffy.

"Indeed. Whatever we're facing, we're the first to face it," he said. "Oh, and that reminds me; Willow called while you were in the Park. She continued looking into that article she found, and found that the incident allegedly happened in the Mongolian desert, and that it wasn't Ravnon itself that was involved, but the Exploratory Expeditions Corporation, which the article claims is a front for Ravnon."

"Exploratory Expeditions?" asked Buffy.

"EEC for short," said Giles. "They're sort of high-tech prospectors; they go to remote places and attempt to locate resources for exploitation."

"Sounds like a good buyer for the kind of products Ravnon would develop while working with the military," Buffy said.

"Precisely. Ravnon itself is such a secretive corporation Willow was unable to find any links to it on the Internet, but EEC does have a site which she is investigating."

"Sounds good," said Buffy. "Anything else?"

"No, but I would suggest you ask Willow to have a look at the police patrols that were scheduled for tonight. What you described with that officer was extremely odd," Giles advised.

"No kidding," agreed Buffy. "Maybe I could also ask Spike what he knows about the layout of those tunnels, whether there's anywhere H-100 could squeeze itself into without needing a chiropractor. I wonder where he is..."

* * *

Spike suddenly felt a burning, horrific, intense pain running in a line from neck to left shoulder. He tried to scream, but there was something incredibly tight and foul wrapped around his face, blinding and gagging him. Despite whatever it was, he was _breathing_, steadily, constantly, something he hadn't done in centuries. He was dimly aware of loud, frantic voices, and the sensation of movement, but most of all the pain eating at him, and the unnatural, long-forgotten sensation of breath.

_Am I alive?_ he thought groggily, _am I dead? Is this Hell?_

_Sure hope the Master isn't here,_ was his last thought before sinking back into a black sea of oblivion, where everything made much more sense. _Don't think eternity with him would be much of a party._


	16. The New Blood

Spike's body had been cold for centuries, save for the moments during and afterwards a feeding. But he noticed that he was colder than usual as he awoke- and not just because he was buck naked. Not moving, not opening his eyes lest he alert an enemy to his consciousness, he tried to remember what had happened, what was going on.

The last thing he remembered after that _thing_ had climbed onto his face was that he'd been in Hell, or at least a good imitation. There'd been pain, blindness, and, most disturbingly, he'd been breathing. None of those things- including the facehugger, thank God- were present now except the pain, and that had been reduced to a dull ache. He also seemed to be naked, but covered in something soft. He risked opening his eyes.

He was under a sheet. After listening to make sure he was alone, he tore it off and looked at where he was.

It was a morgue.

He was on a metal table, surrounded by fellow stiffs, covered in sheets. Spike took a look at his nude body, and saw a hideous scar running down the left side of his neck and onto his shoulder. He hoped to God it wasn't permanent. For some reason, vampires healed better than humans despite them being walking corpses. But some injuries, like the sword scar above his eye, remained. Spike didn't want this ugly line of tortured flesh to be one of them. It would wreak havoc with his sex appeal.

Then he felt a twinge in his face, reached up to feel it, and realized his shoulder was the least of his worries. His fingers traced and felt strange, grotesque marks. The gripping, sucker-covered legs of the thing had left deep lines and circles all over his face. A rage began to build in Spike, which soon turned to action.

First thing to do would be to get his clothes back. Then he'd get out of here, but not before he took a look at whatever reports docs had to fill out whenever a corpse rolled in. He needed to know what the hell had happened to him.

There was a work desk on the other side of the room, near the entrance. Moving quietly, Spike went over to it and started rifling through files.

Here he was: John Doe, brought in at three-thirty last night. He checked a clock on the wall and saw that it was now three in the afternoon. _Damn._ Unless it was real cloudy today, or he caught a lucky break, he was going to be stuck in this hospital for a while.

The report said he'd been found lying on the road by a passing motorist. At first the driver had thought he'd been hit by a car, but then he'd seen an 'unidentified creature' on Spike's face, and ten minutes later, 'John Doe' was in an ambulance. The report noted that the creature appeared to be 'trying to facilitate respiration for the body', and that when the paramedics had attempted to cut it off so they could try to revive him, 'the specimen exuded an extremely powerful acid from the cut which lacerated the body's neck and left shoulder, and did considerable damage to the stretcher and the ambulance itself. The ambulance is no longer serviceable, and was lucky to reach the hospital before breaking down.'

Spike laughed as he realized what his stint in 'hell' had really been. The alien had been trying to keep its host alive (making him breath) and had spurted acid when the meds had cut it (hence the pain and the scar). The acid had gone on to damage the ambulance and equipment (frantic voices of the paramedics). All this had happened while the ambulance was en route to the hospital (sensation of movement). _Note to self,_ he thought, _next time, rule out the mundane before getting ready for eternal damnation._

He went on to read that a few hours ago, the creature had mysteriously shriveled up, died, and fallen off his face. It was currently being kept for further study.

Then he read the last part of the report. 'Full autopsy scheduled for six o' clock tonight.'

_Bullocks!_

He sure he was able to get out of here by then. He wasn't letting anything put a hole in his chest, chip or no chip.

* * *

"What do you think, Professor?" Forrest asked. Walsh regarded Ravnon's portable lab with interest. It wasn't much to look at; a low rectangle made out of prefabricated walls and painted the drabbest olive green imaginable. But she'd seen the equipment inside, and had to admit Traeten's people had done a remarkable job. The alien had been moved there without incident, and was now safely contained inside a cell.

"It's impressive, all right," she said. "Ravnon's learned a lot from us, and there's a very passable scientific facility in there. The security on the cell is simple, but strong enough to hold the alien. Considering that Traeten had it disassembled, flown here, and rebuilt all in a matter of hours, I must say they've done a hell of a job getting it all right. There's no chance of anyone stumbling across it here either." 'Here' was a secluded backwoods area a few miles from the Initiative where no one ever came. "I'm less impressed with the personnel though. Doctors Cottle and Frasier might be competent by civilian standards, but I have doubts as to their extraterrestrial expertise. And the security personnel…"

Forrest snorted derisively at the mention of the swaggering men with Uzi submachine guns who were expected to contain one of the most dangerous creatures the Initative had ever seen. "Mercenaries. Pure and simple. The big guy might be tough, but the others? I bet they'll run the second the alien makes trouble. They probably only took this job because they like playing with big guns- probably to compensate for some-"

"Satifactory, Professor?" Traeten appeared behind them, smiling even more than usual. Walsh forced one of her own.

"Completely. Your company's contribution to this matter is most valuable." _Now,_ she prayed, i_f only he treats it like an enemy and not a walking oil field, we're in business._ She was confident that, barring catastrophe, this move would free up enough troops to properly eliminate the alien infestation taking root in the town. Walsh was sure Ravnon's personnel could hold onto the alien for at least that long, and once it was over, the specimen would retake its rightful place within the Initiative's laboratories, where its astonishing body's secrets would be extracted, studied, and utilized for the good of the U.S. military in general, and project 314 in particular.

Professor Walsh smiled as Traeten prattled on beside her. This had been an ugly mess, but once done, the results of it would create a thing of perfect beauty.

* * *

Willow decided that she and her computer were having a good day. First, she'd taken a look at the police schedules, and determined that there had been no patrols anywhere near Weatherly Park last night. She'd also taken a look at their radio records, and noted that no constable had reported any 'possible terrorist activity'. Either that police officer's radio had been broken, or something very strange had been going on that night.

Then there was the Exploratory Expeditions Corporation, who's security had been tougher than she'd expected. But she knew that resource-finding expeditions were an extremely competitive field, and that any company involved would protect its assets even if it wasn't fronting for a shadowy government contractor. Which EEC almost certainly was. It's toughest security programs were guarding the company's financial records. And once Willow broke through, she saw that EEC's money didn't come from customers for resources. Instead, they seemed to be getting an awful lot of money from unidentified companies and donors who wanted EEC to test experimental equipment for them. A lot of this equipment seemed to use the same components and principles as the Initiative's high-tech toys. But the clincher came when she looked at EEC's expeditions over the last few years. While there were few details, there was a record of an exploration in the Mongolian desert which had been cut short very abruptly around the time the tabloid article claimed Ravnon's team had been massacred by an alien menace.

This was good enough to fit a theory around. Exploratory Expeditions was Ravnon's way of testing some of the products it developed thanks to its partnership with the military's dark corners, and maybe turning the occasional profit if the company actually fulfilled its stated purpose of finding new resources. To make money while staying in the shadows, Ravnon probably maintained several of these dummy corporations, in order to sell its products and do other things a corporation couldn't easily do in secret. Willow knew it wouldn't stand up in any sort of court, but her friends were definitely going to be interested.

* * *

Despite two centuries worth of practice at skulking about, it had taken Spike longer than expected to accomplish his goals within the hospital. Even getting dressed had been difficult; Sunnydale's hospitals tended to be quite busy, especially the morgue.

In addition to grabbing his clothes and the medical report, Spike had taken the liberty of shredding whatever records he'd found which said he'd ever been inside the hospital. While it would be a lark to be 'the corpse that vanished', he'd both been there and done that, and it suited his interests to lie low while he planned his next move. He'd also swiped the remains of the facehugger. He wanted to know more about whatever had hurt him. Maybe there was an opportunity for some ironic revenge against the Slayer hidden in the odd creature's workings. After all, this was all her fault. Somehow.

It was close to evening, but the sun was still infuriatingly high in the sky, and Spike hadn't spotted an opportunity to slip out of the hospital without being incinerated. He hadn't been able to find a convenient access to the sewer either, so it looked like he was going to be stuck here for a couple more hours. He was considering sneaking into the X-ray room and getting a look at his chest while he waited.. He'd been having strange twinges in his torso ever since he'd woken up, and didn't want any nasty surpr-

SMACK!

It was like being punched. Hard. From _inside_ his chest. Spike doubled over in an entirely new and awful kind of pain, crying out as he felt his inmost organs shifting, being pushed around his own body by something cold and foreign, felt his chest beginning to swell and expand in a horrifically unnatural way. Then it came again. And again...

Nurse Ratched was taking her evening break in the hospital's cafeteria. She was scheduled to help perform an autopsy soon, and while she knew that snacking before such an operation wasn't exactly a good idea, she was hungry, dammit. Besides while she was in here eating she wasn't getting nagged constantly by Doctor Roy. So she'd overreacted a couple times. So what?

"For the love of bloody God, someone help me! Help mEAAAAAARRRRR-"

Ratched screamed as the subject of her scheduled autopsy suddenly burst into the cafeteria, his eyes bulging, his jaws stretched wide as he roared in unholy pain. She screamed again as he tore open his shirt, clawing at his own chest, which was beginning to show a bulging lump in the centre, looking a lot like a head…

He howled, and toppled backwards onto a table, writhing and thrashing. Blood began oozing, then spurting from his chest, and he looked at his own body with utter horror as he felt something inside him push.

"NonnonononoPleasebloodyHell_NO_-"

The thing inside him didn't listen. Muscles tore, organs collapsed, skin split, blood sprayed, and Spike's chest exploded. Screams filled his ears; his own, the humans around him, and an unholy screech, the birth cry of the creature which had just leapt from the red ruins of what had once been his chest.

His last thought as he mercifully lost consciousness was that he'd been wrong, and this really was Hell.


	17. Developments

"What the _hell_ is going on in my base?" breathed Professor Walsh as she confronted the latest in a frustratingly mounting series of problems. Walsh loved control, needed it, and one of the reasons The Initiative was her pride and joy was how nicely everything was under control. Right now, things were emphatically _not_ under control.

One of the things the Initiative had given Sunnydale, along with a lower demon population, enhanced life expectancy, and many more handsome, muscular college students, was state-of-the-art Orwellian surveillance. The Initiative justified the phone taps in the city's emergency services by reasoning that they increased their response time to crises, and provided valuable information about the various bad things happening in the cursed town. This reasoning allowed them to overlook the morbidly lucrative betting pool based around the game of 'guess the demon' played by the phone operators whenever a new body was found mauled "by wild dogs" in Sunnydale.

"When did you notice it?" she asked Doctor Angleman. 'It' was a computer diagram showing the performance of the various bugs the Initiative had strewn throughout the town.

"I was examining the phone systems to see why they malfunctioned earlier," Doctor said, "and noticed that the transmission speed of the bugs was much slower than it should be. It's as though there's a gap somewhere between the bugs picking up something and us receiving it."

Walsh nodded. The gaps were strange, too; the diagram showed a constant gap of a small, almost undetectable duration, but some gaps showed much longer delays between a bug sending data and the Initiative receiving it. "Did you take a look at the system?" She asked. "What kind of data is getting delayed?"

"That's the alarming thing," the Doctor said. "The delayed data shows up as, well, nothing- just the bugs sending a regular report that there's been no communications of note within the emergency services. But the data shows clear evidence of being artificial- of being planted in the transmission."

Walsh leveled a cold, hard stare at the Doctor. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He nodded. "The evidence shows that the messages from the wiretaps are being intercepted and analyzed at high speed before being passed on... and that whatever's behind it has been denying some information from us and possibly planting false intel within the Initiative. Professor, our bugs have been bugged."

Walsh took a deep breath, controlling herself as frightening possibilities and angry wishes began to whirl in her mind. "Doctor," she said, "assume that _all_ our malfunctions have been caused by sabotage. Find the places where all the systems which have been affected could be influenced, and inspect them in detail." She stalked off without another word, brimming with wrath. Her operation. Her dream. Someone had fucked with _her_ Initiative...

She found Forrest, Graham, and Riley, and was glad that the latter had come back from his... 'strategy discussion' with Buffy in time for this. She needed him especially. "We have a possible intelligence gap," she told them. She didn't inform them of the nature of the problem, and they didn't ask, as per usual, which suited her just fine. The fewer people who knew what was really going on, the better. As of now, she trusted no one. "I need each of you undercover at the hospital, fire department, and police station. Find out if we've missed out on any important information, and report back."

"I call police," said Forrest and Riley at the same time. They looked at each other, then at Graham, but he was already off to inspect fire uniforms. They sighed, and raised their fists.

Riley played rock and Forrest played paper, as per usual. "See you around, Nurse Finn," Forrest said.

* * *

Deep beneath the surface of Sunnydale, in the dark places inhabited by dark things, a creature stirred. Young but already swift, lethal, and powerful, instincts prodded its brain into action, as did the silent will of its great Mother. Child. Go. Protect. Bring. Enemies? KILL.

Moving with horrifying speed and absolute silence, the creature began to rise towards the city...

* * *

Less than an hour later, Nurse Riley Finn, with the credentials, I.D. Tag, and uniform to prove it, entered Sunnydale's hospital. Immediately he could tell that a great deal indeed had been happening without the Intiative's knowing it. Tension hung in the hospital's cool air, and Riley could see worry in the faces of every doctor he saw. He spotted the doctor and nurse who had treated Buffy after the attack in the graveyard and made his way over there.

"He is dead this time, right?" asked Nurse Ratched. "Really dead?" Riley could see that she had been crying, very hard and very recently.

"He has a hole in his chest the size of a grapefruit," noted Dr. Roy wryly. "I don't think he'll be getting up anytime soon, though I still don't know how such a mistake could have been made. I'm definitely going to have a word with whoever pronounced him dead. I'm more worried about the... larva," he finished. "I'm completely out of my depth on whatever it is. It's still secure, and seems to be very hungry, but..." Riley walked away. He'd heard enough, and was more than alarmed.

Hole in the chest. Larva. Another alien had been born, one with a human host, and it was right here in the hospital. Riley knew that whatever the 'intelligence gap' was, it was serious. The Initiative and its people existed to find out about these things, and stop them before they happened. And what had that nurse meant, 'dead _this_ time'? Quickly finding a secluded corner, he contacted the Initiative, informed them of the situation, and called for backup. Whatever was going on here, he might need help dealing with it.

Then Riley remembered that the communication systems receiving him were on the fritz, along with most everything else in the Initiative. For all he knew, his call had come out in Swahili. He knew Professor Walsh hated the idea of involving civilians, but he needed assistance. Riley called his girlfriend.

* * *

"So the material expenditures of EEC are mainly focused on stuff like projective-transistors and other technology that the Initiative uses, which means... that you're not getting any of this are you?" Willow stopped talking and looked doubtfully at her friend.

Buffy smiled. "No, I get the gist of it. EEC probably is linked to Ravnon, and probably did have something bad happen to it in Mongolia, possibly involving an alien. There's definitely at least something going on there. I say we have a talk with Traeten first chance we get."

"Giles said the same thing-" Willow was cut off by the telephone ringing. Buffy grabbed it.

"Hello?" She smiled as she heard her boyfriend's voice. "Oh hey! Huh? Wow. Oh, sure. Yeah, I can be there soon. Okay, bye." She hung up and turned back to Willow.

"Sorry, hunky-yet-overly-dutiful boyfriend calls. Apparently there might be an alien baby in the hospital. I'm gonna go and help him out. Doesn't sound like too much of a biggie, but maybe we can have some private monster-hunting before the ski-mask backup crashes the party."

"Okay, good luck. But if you get covered in acid, don't come back here. I just cleaned the carpet," Willow said. Buffy smiled as she left. Willow turned back to her computer, and started looking for any more information on Jacob Traeten, especially regarding trips to Mongolia...

* * *

It was now late at night, the time when the unseen things in Sunnydale walked the streets and alleyways, when dark powers and lethal species were at their strongest, and when lives were apt to be cut horribly short.

Buffy strolled to the hospital.

Riley searched for more clues about the 'larva'.

Professor Walsh received Riley's message in perfect order, and detailed more operatives to the hospital.

Willow found something on the computer that made her gasp. She didn't know her room was being watched.

Steam billowed from a torn-open air vent on the roof of Sunnydale's hospital.

And the vampire known as Spike awoke as he heard what sounded like a scream.

* * *

A/N: Everything I wrote about the functioning of the Initiative's phone taps is pulled straight out of my ass; I know nothing about the fine art of covert surveillance. So if you ever need to sabotage government electronic bugs, don't use this as a source. 


	18. Offensives

The first thing he was aware of was that part of his chest seemed to be missing.

The second thing was that it hurt like bloody hell. Spike gagged, groaned, and slipped back into unconsciousness at the howling pain coming from the distorted ruins of his chest.

Time passed. Part of Spike wanted to just stay unconscious, forever and ever, and not have to face the pain, the humiliation, the deformity. Another part- the part which had made it possible for him to kill two Slayers- was mad as hell, ready to murder something, and wanted to be awake right the hell now so it could get on with the murdering. Eventually the second part won. Opening his eyes again, this time forcing himself to endure the yawning, nauseating sense of _absence_ in his chest, Spike realized he was in a dark, enclosed, very cold space. Coffin?

He put his hands out and touched cold metal. No, they'd put him back in the morgue, in a drawer this time. He was naked again, and his arms, his entire body, felt very weak. The ordeal of giving birth to a monster had taken a lot out of him. _No time to lollygag,_ Spike thought, gritting his teeth as the pain suddenly spiked and his vision began to fade again. _Got to get out. Gotta get even._ He tensed himself, and pushed hard against the ceiling of the drawer. It worked; the drawer slid out quietly into the morgue, surrounded once again by tables and bodies.

Spike waited a moment, then stood up, his knees buckling. Not only was he weak, but the hole in his chest distorted his centre of gravity and sense of balance. He'd manage. Looking down, he saw that where there had once been smooth, pale skin and hard, perfectly-formed muscle, there was now only an unholy crater and blood and bits of flesh smeared all over his chest.

He began to tremble, not from pain or revulsion- though God knew there was still plenty of both- but rage. Not the same kind of rage he'd had before, when he'd merely been attacked by the facehugger, no, this was much more. He'd been raped, forced, taken, used by some sick, unnatural parasite as a bloody womb. He'd been put through the most painful and awful experience he'd ever had during his long and eventful existence. And, between the hole, the scar on his shoulder, and the marks on his face, he now had about as much pride, sex appeal, and fearfulness as those stupid rabbits from "Night of the Lepus".

He was going to tear apart what had done this to him if he had to follow it back to its bloody home planet.

Suddenly, Spike remembered what had woken him up in the first place- a scream of terror and pain, cut off abruptly. Had he really heard it, or had it been a pleasant dream? He decided it could wait until he got his clothes back- again- and figured out his next move. Naked, he took a few tentative steps across the cold floor.

THUMP!

Spike whirled around, and saw one of the morgue drawers behind him rattle. Something was in there that wasn't quite dead. The drawer rattled again. Whatever it was wanted out pretty badly. Maybe another vampire?

Then he heard the screech. It was a frantic, high-pitched, oddly familiar animal sound, definitely not from a vampire. He reached up and opened the drawer.

A nightmare leapt out, straight past Spike's face. His reflexes were undulled by his experiences, and his arm shot out and managed to just snag the tip of the thing's tail before it could hit ground.

Dangling, it twisted and tried to bite him with a small mouth full of incredibly sharp teeth. Spike took a look at the slimy thing, holding it at arm's length, and realized why the screech had sounded familiar. This was the creature that had forced him to give birth to it, leaving a hole in him as way of thanks.

It was a damn ugly creature, shaped like some sort of phallic worm or maggot. Its cold shell was pale and not yet fully hardened, and vestigial arms and legs could be seen sprouting from its sides. Its eyeless head had nothing save a hungry, snapping mouth for features. There were still red traces of blood on it from its birth. Spike saw that it was wider than the hole in his chest; it must have grown by a full foot since it burst from him. Wriggling ferociously, the wretched thing screamed like a flayed cat. Spike smiled cruelly at it.

Grabbing the chestburster just behind the head, he viciously pulled on its body, stretching it taut and reducing its screams to choked wheezes. "Hello there Junior," he said, "I'm your daddy. Welcome to the world. First lesson of life you're going to learn is exactly how many knots I can tie in you before you die."

Suddenly, the door to the morgue opened and a middle-aged doctor with an ill-fitting toupee walked in and stopped short when he saw the grim tableau before him. Doctor Roy gaped speechlessly at the sight of a hideously injured naked dead man throttling a monster.

There was a silence that was awkward, to say the least. Spike glared at the man, allowing the demon within him to come forth and reveal his vampiric face to the doctor. "Walk away, doc," he snarled. "Go home, have a few stiff ones, and forget everything. Now."

Stammering incoherently, Roy raised his hands defensively, took two steps backwards, and then screamed and fell forward as something struck his back, bearing him to the ground. Without hesitation the Xenomorph on top of him pinned him beneath its clawed feet and bit down hard on his neck. Teeth sliced through flesh with ease, closed around the spine, and tore it free of the body, snapping the neck in two. Roy died, his blood staining both floor and monster. The man's limbs twitched for a moment, then his eyes emptied and the body was still.

Not giving a second thought, the alien drew its head from its kill, swallowed Roy's vertebrae, and snarled at Spike. The second mouth extended outwards on its grotesque stalk and bared its bloodied teeth. Spike could see its legs tensing for a pounce as the creature's eyeless stare focused on him with deadly intent. Thinking quickly, he tightened his grip around the chestburster's spine, causing the wormlike larva to squeal in protest. The alien hesitated.

"That's right," he said, "One wrong move, and Junior here becomes a Slinky pet." Beneath his bravado, his mind was racing on how to get out of this alive. Spike didn't feel up to a fight, what with part of his torso missing and all. He took a better look at the creature, sizing it up. It was smaller than the thing he'd watched Buffy fight in the park, and probably weighed a lot less, but looked plenty strong. It faced Spike on all fours, and looked like it was built to move and fight that way. Its shell was a different colour as well, a dark sheen with faint hints of red. Spike played back the death of the doctor in his mind- surprised, attacked, pinned, and dead in about three seconds- and knew he'd have a tough time taking this thing on in his condition.

The bizarre standoff continued for a few more moments. The only noise in the room were the squeals of the chestburster and the breathing of the alien, the only movement the growing pool of blood beneath the doctor's body. Then they both heard footsteps, heading towards the room, fast. Both made their moves.

* * *

Riley had definitely lost control of the situation. He'd discovered that the larva had been stored in the morgue and had been heading there when a scream had echoed throughout the hospital. Fortunately, his hospital uniform meant that when Riley had ordered the civilians around him to get out of there, they'd all listened- including the doctors who outranked him. Military command training was an excellent way to get what you wanted.

Running down the hall leading to the morgue, Riley saw where the scream had come from. Judging by the uniform the body sprawled on the floor was wearing, this man had been a hospital intern, although it was a little hard to tell because of the blood spattered all over him. Riley knelt by the corpse, but then there was another scream- this one coming from the morgue itself. His mind started to put two and two together. The alien larva was in the morgue. The Xenomorphs appeared to be intelligent, social animals. Intelligent animals cared for their young… Riley started running again, leaving the unfortunate intern behind. He had to get to the morgue before someone else died, and before the Xenomorphs rescued their child and unleashed another monster on Sunnydale.

* * *

As Riley approached the morgue, the alien leapt at the vampire, claws and teeth extended. At the same time, Spike hurled the larva at his attacker, and leapt sideways towards the morgue drawer. Both aliens collided in midair and crashed to the ground in a shrieking, snarling heap while Spike landed chestfirst on the drawer. Pain shot through his wound and he almost fainted, but managed to haul the rest of his body onto the drawer.

The clicking of claws on linoleum told him that the alien was back on its feet. Summoning his last reserves of strength, Spike braced his arms against the walls of the drawer and pulled himself in. He saw the light of the outside begin to vanish, being replaced by safe, welcome darkness...

Suddenly, a clawed limb latched onto the lip of the drawer before it could completely close. Spike felt himself being pulled back out, his hands slipping from the metal. The thing was strong! He braced himself, ignored his pain and weakness, and pushed as hard as he could against the walls. The drawer stopped moving for a moment, but then the alien's other limb seized the it and pulled harder than ever. Spike's feet slid out into the open. Soon, the rest of him would follow, and the alien would tear him apart at its leisure. He heard the foul thing he'd given birth to squealing excitedly as the larger creature's mouth appeared, extending its second set of jaws to snap at his ankles. He could feel alien saliva dripping onto his naked flesh.

Suddenly, the muffled _thud_ of a silenced gunshot echoed in the morgue, and the alien screeched and dropped away. Spike wasted no time getting the drawer shut all the way. He was immediately enclosed in blackness, and could see nothing. Outside, he heard sizzling, a snarl, another shot-

_Bullocks!_ The shot punched through the drawer Spike was in, narrowly missing him and letting a finger of light into the darkness. There was the sound of commotion outside, then of running, then silence. There was nothing except the hum of the morgue's air conditioning. It was over. He was alone again.

Spike took a deep breath- more for psychological reasons than physical- and got ready to get moving. The sun was almost definitely down by now, and with all the havoc in the hospital, he should be able to get his clothes back and get back to the crypt. Then he'd plan his next move. First of all, healing- there was no bloody way he was going to spend the rest of his unlife with a scarred face, shoulder, and a huge hole in his chest. Spike had come back from having a broken back before, and was sure he could bounce back even from the horrors he'd suffered this night. And once he did, it would be time to inflict a few horrors of his own.

* * *

As Riley entered the morgue, his combat instincts took over. He didn't pay attention to the dead man at his feet or wonder why the Xenomorph was attacking a drawer, but simply reacted, drawing the silenced pistol concealed under his coat and firing. The bullet struck the alien dead centre, but spent most of its force on the creature's tough shell. It turned and hissed at him as a thin stream of acid blood spilled onto the morgue floor, scarring and pitting the smooth surface. Riley aimed again, this time at the head-

Hissing, the larva suddenly darted across the floor and sank a mouthful of teeth into Riley's ankle. He cried out as his shot went wild and punctured the drawer instead of the alien, which seized the opportunity and charged. Riley knew he was dead if he stayed where he was. Shaking the chestburster from his ankle, he ran for his life.

Dashing across the morgue floor, he turned and fired over his shoulder, barely missing the creature's legs as it sped after him. Not only was it coming for him with frightening speed, but the smaller creature, its jaws now red with Riley's blood, had hitched a ride on its shoulders. Judging by its exultant screeches, the larva was enjoying itself immensely. Riley tore through the doors of the morgue and into the corridor.

The hallway between the morgue and the lobby was dark, narrow, and much too long for Riley's taste. He tried to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, the brightly-lit doors to the hospital lobby, as opposed to the snarls of the alien and the primal fear of being struck down from behind which was running through his body. Riley whirled around and fired again. But the moment the alien saw the weapon raised, it leapt onto the wall and then jumped to the ceiling. Its feet stuck there effortlessly, and it continued running without the slightest pause. It was gaining on him...

Riley forced his legs to pump faster, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chewed ankle. His only chance was to buy time and distance, and he turned and shot again, squeezing the trigger as fast as he could. Plaster and dust exploded from the ceiling as the alien dodged, dropping straight down to the floor. Its loathsome passenger was not dislodged by all the acrobatics, and was squealing with excitement as the Xenomorphs chased down their prey. Riley gave up on the gun and focused on running, on the door to the lobby, growing tantalizingly close. But so was the alien; he could hear its footfalls and quiet breathing right behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around, to confront what was behind him. Any second now he would feel that breath, along with teeth and claws ripping into his back, his legs, his pelvis...

Suddenly, the doors in front of him were flung open by two brown-shirted security officers. Riley realized with dismay that hospital security had been alerted to the chaos. They spotted the gun. "Hey!" the youngest-looking, couldn't have been more than 18, yelled, "drop-" Then he saw the aliens, and realized he had much bigger problems than unauthorized firearms. His mouth fell open, and his arms went slack, while his more sensible colleague dove out of the way. Riley had seen the look before: the guard was like a deer in the headlights of a truck, and wouldn't move until it was too late. He dove forward and tackled him to the ground. As their bodies crashed painfully to the hard lobby floor the alien and its passenger leapt overhead. No longer interested in killing, they took off down the hallway.

Riley scrambled to his feet as the man under him groaned, both with pain and pure shock at what he'd seen. Ignoring him and the other guard, who was yelling something about giant lizards into his radio, he lifted his gun again. The moonlight coming through the window at the end of the hall reflected eerily off the alien's shell as it ran. Riley realized that it was about to get away and opened fire again, emptying the rest of his clip at the creatures. But at this range, hitting such a fleet target as the alien was impossible. He watched helplessly as the creature covered the last few feet to the window and jumped-

The window exploded outwards into hundreds of sparkling shards as the adult alien dove through it. It was a two-storey drop to the pavement, but creature landed easily as a cat, ignoring the pieces of glass shattering on and around its body. It shook itself off, and then it and the larva it had come for were gone into the night, leaving only death and destruction as evidence they had ever been there.

"What the hell was that thing?!" gasped the older security guard, way out of his league. Riley's face was grim, and he gave no answer.

* * *

All of Willow's attention was focused on EEC's personnel records. She was getting close to an answer here, she could feel it. Apparently the expedition to Mongolia had consisted of five people, all of whom had stopped receiving pay checks from EEC after the expedition had been cut short. The records didn't mention why these people had suddenly no longer worked at EEC after the expedition, leaving out whether they had quit, been downsized, or were dead. But there were no travel expenses listed for their return trips, which pretty much narrowed things down...

She took a deep breath. This pretty much sealed the deal on what had happened to EEC's expedition, but she still needed to know more. Willow changed tactics, paying an Internet visit to the Los Angeles International Airport, looking for the members of the expedition.

_What was that noise?_ That scratching sound in the hall?

It didn't repeat itself, and Willow lost herself in the computer once again. Here they were- Misters Gummer, Mandrake, MacReady, Burke, and Walters on a business-class flight to Mongolia. Willow was about to close the passenger list when she glanced at another name, seated next to the EEC men.

Jacob Traeten had been on the expedition. Difference was, he'd actually come back alive…

"There is an explanation for this, you know."

Willow spun around in her chair to face Traeten. She hadn't even heard him enter- or the two black-clad thugs behind him.

Traeten was the same as ever: sympathetic smile on face, eyes interested, suit unwrinkled, manner friendly. He contrasted sharply with his pals. The one nearest her was pale, sported a dark goatee, and kept fiddling with a ridiculously large, serrated knife. His eyes were like a rodent's, nervous and darting. The other one was covering the door, an immense black mountain of a man with a bald head and a cruel smirk on his face.

"Oh, did I startle you Willow? I'm sorry. It's just that, well, we need to talk," Traeten said, motioning towards her computer. "You see, I've become aware of your online activities regarding my company's interests, and I realize that certain things you've found could look rather... embarrassing if viewed in a certain light."

"W-would that be the 'you've run into killer aliens before and haven't bothered telling us' kinda light?" challenged Willow, regaining some of her composure. That scratching sound must have been the lock being picked... But how did he find out what she'd been doing?

Traeten laughed good-naturedly. "See, that's exactly the kind of attitude we want to prevent. Things like that getting spread around would greatly damage our relationship with our prized customers at the Initiative. But it's all really quite simple to explain," he assured her. "Just come with us and we'll be able to clear everything up for you."

"I... really think I'd rather stay here. You can 'clear things up' for Buffy too when she gets back," replied Willow.

"Oh, but we _insist._"

Willow bolted. She dove past Traeten, who didn't make a move to stop her, and aimed at the door, hoping the big man was as slow as he looked. He wasn't. He moved like a panther.

Suddenly, she felt a huge arm coil around her waist, and hoist her into the air like a doll. She started to scream and tried to think of a spell, but suddenly an odd-smelling rag was clamped over her face.

Her vision swam, and everything went dark.

* * *

Riley was standing in front of the hospital, waiting for the Initiative's cleanup team to arrive, when Buffy walked up nonchalantly.

"Hey there. Anything interesting been happening?" she asked.

Riley just stared.


	19. Captivity

A/N: Regarding vampires and permanent injuries, I've found some interesting tidbits. The Three, Kakistos, and Spike himself all sport permanent scars, in Spike's case a cut over the left eyebrow from his first Slayer. But several vampires, notably Spike, Angel, and Darla have proven an ability to very quickly heal wounds ranging from impalement to holy water in the face to third-degree burns. It may be that vampires can choose whether or not to heal somehow, and that Spike kept his scar on purpose as a memento. Other damage, like Glory putting her fingers into his chest, heal no problem, while getting his back broken takes a few months. Just a thought.

* * *

Buffy had been hurt before, badly, both physically and emotionally. She'd felt despair, sorrow, anger guilt. But very rarely had she ever felt useless.

This was one of those times.

She watched from the sidelines with Riley as the Initiative took control over what was left of the situation. Shortly after she'd arrived and learned from Riley what had happened while she'd been having a nice little evening walk, the military had asserted its authority over the scene. Now technicians and soldiers swarm over the hospital, collecting evidence, hiding evidence, taking statements, giving alibis, pushing nondisclosure agreements on the security guards, keeping back the police and press, and carting out the bodies of those she'd been too late for. Again.

"This is going to be a mess to keep secret…" Riley didn't look at her as he spoke. He was focused on the second body bag coming out of the hospital. Buffy wondered if it might be Doctor Roy. Only a few days ago, he'd helped bind her wounds that she'd received from an alien. But she hadn't been able to return the favour and keep him safe from the same creatures.

"There's really not much I can do here now, is there?" Buffy said, and sighed. "Everything- or one- who's going to be Slayed already has been."

Riley turned around, and she felt a pang when he smiled at her. The thought hadn't even occurred to him about how this was her fault. But she knew that if she'd been here, she could have stopped the aliens. _Of course H-100 is going to try to get its kid back!_ She berated herself silently. _Of course an alien has popped out of that dog that got captured and is full-grown by now! What were you thinking?_ Even if Riley held nothing against her, she wasn't sure she could say the same of the contents of the two body bags being loaded onto a Humvee.

"Yeah, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "We'll sort this thing out then."

Buffy forced a slight smile of her own as she backed away. "Yeah. Right. Okay. Bye." She walked away, not looking back, deep in thought.

Ever since finding out about the Initiative, Buffy had wondered how that kind of firepower might have changed things. How exactly did she and her group of friends measure up against these high-tech commandoes with almost everything at their fingertips? What if the Mayor could have been fought by real soldiers, instead of kids with bows and arrows? Would Ms. Calendar still be alive if the Initiative had been in charge of finding Angelus? Buffy knew that she and her friends had never given anything less than their best, but times like this begged the question- how best was their best when it depended on sharp pieces of wood?

Buffy walked home, still thinking. Maybe it was time for her and her friends to start working more closely with the Initiative. They were definitely becoming a major force in the town, one the Scoobies couldn't ignore, and getting closer might be a good way to find out more about the organization's secrets. Their professionalism, skill, seemingly infinite resources, and cool utility belts would be an even bigger help to her once she was plugged into the unit's inner workings, and she was sure that she had just as much to offer them, both in strength and experience. 'Hostile Subterrestial' might sound sexier than 'soulless child-eating hellspawn' but really didn't convey much understanding of the enemy. Nifty protein trackers aside, Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that the government didn't really get what it was dealing with here. Buddying up with them might give her an opportunity to deliver a wake-up call; and provide extra excuses to spend time with Riley.

Suddenly, she realized she was back on campus. Time sure flew when you were brooding. Maybe that was how Angel handled the eternal-life thing.

Buffy entered her residence and went up to her floor, looking forward to getting some sleep. She came up to her room- and stopped dead in her tracks, brooding forgotten. There were claw marks on the door.

* * *

Willow regained consciousness slowly, gradually leaving behind a horrible dream involving an enormous centipede and her leg. The first of her senses to awaken was her nose, still full of the chloroform or whatever they'd used on her. The smell brought back the memories of what had happened to her, the discoveries, the break-in, the kidnapping, and she awoke.

_Wait… if I'm awake, how come I still feel a centipede on my leg?_ Willow's eyes snapped open. She immediately wished she'd stayed unconscious.

The 'centipede' was the cold, hard Xenomorph tail resting lightly on her leg. She was in a tiny white cell with a glass shield like the Intiative's, and the alien was lying _right there._ Green, heavily muscled, and clad in a shell with scalelike ridges, it looked almost like a sleeping dragon. Every inch of its body was relaxed, and it appeared to be completely unconscious, a slow, steady wheeze accompanying the slight rising and falling of its torso. It didn't look like it was going to wake up anytime soon, but this didn't stop Willow from not… moving… an inch.

"You don't have to look so worried, Willow. It's not waking up for at least another few hours. We think."

Willow risked turning her head to her right, and saw Traeten there, beyond the shield. Behind him, she saw that the building she was in wasn't that large; the ceiling was low, and an ordinary door was a few metres away, set in a drably-coloured wall next to a window. On the left side of the room was a gun rack, occupied by an array of automatic weapons, as well as a couple of clubs. The right side of the room was dominated by a laboratory. A bank of computers being run by two white-coated people was situated behind a row of counters occupied by chemistry and biology equipment. The white-coats took no notice of her at all. None of the furniture was bolted down or attached, and the whole set-up looked temporary. The floor of her cell was solid concrete, but outside there was just a metal grille suspended over the dirt.

Accompanying Traeten were the henchman who'd taken her, along with two new ones. The beady-eyed guy was nearest to her, knife now tucked in his belt. Behind him was a red-faced man next to the gun rack, with a glassy, vapid stare. Traeten was flanked by a bearded guy, and by the great black man, who was leaning carelessly against the fragile science equipment, still smirking. All were clad in the same black clothing.

"How are you feeling?" Traeten said pleasantly. "Sorry about the accommodations, but this facility has no residential section. And even if it did, it would be employees-only." The guards snickered at this.

Willow ignored them, and looked at the alien again as she gingerly moved her leg out from under the tail. She realized that it fit the description of the DemAlien Buffy had captured, and wondered what it was doing here. Had Traeten stolen it from the Initiative? And why was it so sound asleep? According to Buffy, nerve gas hadn't been able put this thing under. Ravnon must have had a real whammy up its sleeve.

"Willow, you have a Ravnon guarantee that the alien isn't waking up for a while. But it _will_ wake up. What's up to you is whether you're in there with it when that happens. If I were you, I'd try to be somewhere else, or else you might wind up aiding us in our research on Xenomorph dietary habits," Traeten advised.

"What do you want?" Asked Willow. "How long have you been watching me?"

The corporate representative smiled. "Like I said when I first met you, you're quite good with a computer. But all the electronic assets of my company and its associates are heavily guarded, not only with the programs you were able to get past, but hidden ones to let us know when an enterprising individual like yourself has managed to see things she's not meant to see. We were alerted to your investigation the moment you broke into EEC's more sensitive data. We simply needed to wait until you were alone," he said. "Now, all we need is some information, Willow. What exactly did you find out? Who did you tell about what you found? And is it recorded anywhere else besides on your computer?"

Willow stared at him. "You really think I'm gonna just go 'okay, Mr. Traeten, here ya go! A complete list of which of my friends you need to kidnap next! I even colour-coded it for you!"

Traeten chuckled slightly and moved closer to the cell. Willow got to her feet and faced him through the shield. "Try to look at it from my point of view, Willow. I have to work with Professor Walsh on a daily basis. Do you think she'd be very happy if she was aware of my… prior experience with the Xenomorphs? To say nothing of the U.S. Government itself. Ravnon occupies a very lucrative but very small market, completely dependent on America's secret projects. That's why for us, the only good publicity is no publicity. So if you just tell us how far this… misunderstanding has spread, we can get everyone together here, clear it up- it's all quite easily explained, you see- and we can all get back to being friends again."

"Well, maybe you could look at it from my point of view, Mr. Traeten," Willow shot back. "Maybe you're telling the truth about this all being a misunderstanding, or maybe it's a big fat lie like almost everything else you've told us seems to be. But either way, I'm willing to bet that before your alien can wake up and hurt me, Buffy and my friends will find out what you did and come hurt you. And then everyone will be together and you can still 'clear it up'- without any kidnapping."

"Actually, Willow," Traeten said, "as far as your vampire-slayer friend knows, you've been taken by an alien to their Hive for impregnation. We did a very convincing mock-up of a Xenomorph attack in your room. She'll come to rescue you all right, but it'll be in the wrong spot. Somehow, I don't think even she could make it out of that place alive. I'd like you to keep that in mind, Willow. Your stubbornness could get your friend killed, as well as anyone else she brings with her."

_Hive?_ Thought Willow. _There's a Hive now?_

Traeten smiled again. "Now I know that this is something that might require some time to think, but unfortunately I can't wait all night for an answer. I have some business to conduct. Don't worry, I'm leaving you with some human company too. You've already met Kong and Toni." He indicated the big guy and the knife-wielder. "And these are Russell and Nale." The empty stare of the man by the gun rack didn't change at the sound of his name. Nale, on the other hand, straightened up noticeably, as though his name being mentioned was high praise. "And, should you need any more attention, there's another man on watch outside, as well as Doctors Cottle and Frasier by the lab. Oh, and each of them knows about your magical proficiency, and will flood the cell with anaesthetic gas if you try anything." Traeten turned to leave. "I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you or your friends Willow, really," he said. "Kong has my number if you make the smart choice."

And then it was just Willow and a vicious alien behind a high-voltage shield, with four guards outside. Without any supplies, there was no spell she could safely cast that would break the shield. And even if there was, she had no way of dealing with all four of the guards, especially without waking up the alien. She briefly considered levitating the weapons on the rack and forcing them to release her at magical-gunpoint, but the guns were too heavy and too far away for her to lift with her mind. And even if she could, she had no idea how to release safeties telekinetically.

Willow just stood in the corner furthest away from the alien- which still left a scant two feet between her and its claws- and tried to think of something, anything. If Traeten was telling the truth, then Buffy, Xander and Giles might walk into a deathtrap trying to rescue her. But if she talked, they'd get taken by Ravnon too. Willow was sure that Traeten had a plan for dealing with Buffy that was just as well thought-out as her kidnapping seemed to have been.

"How d'ya like your roomate?" asked Kong sardonically. His voice rumbled like thunder, and provoked guffaws among his colleagues. Willow sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	20. Unravelling

"Willow?" called Buffy as she opened the door, entered the room, and saw destruction, trashage- but no Willow. Her roomate's computer tower was smashed, its chair tipped on its side. Her mattress had been slashed open. A lamp lay on the floor, the phone was crushed. There was no blood, no traces, no Willow. Buffy felt panic beginning to well in her, and pushed it down.

"Dear Lord".

Buffy turned to see Giles behind her. "Something took Willow," she said.

"Evidently." Giles took off his glasses and looked around the room. "I just came here to make use of the library for research, and knowing Willow's propensity for staying up at ungodly hours, thought she might be able to help... What happened?"

"I wasn't here. We've got big problems Giles, even without Will gone. Riley called me to the hospital, said they had an alien baby there. Thing is, Mommy wanted her kid back and sent another alien, a new one, to get it. It trashed the place and killed two people, a doctor in the morgue where the larva was being kept, and an intern who got shredded in the hallway. From what the Initiative guys found out, it looks like the thing got in through the air vents, but since the morgue's air system is self-contained, it had to pop out into the hallway and slash its way to what it came for."

Giles stared. "Were you able to stop it? A-after the killings, that is."

Buffy sighed. "I wasn't there. Didn't bother getting there fast. I learned all this from Riley, when he had a moment away from cleaning up my mess."

"You couldn't have known Buffy," Giles replied quickly. "I certainly wouldn't have expected the Queen to make an open attack on such a public place."

"Queen?"

"I think that's a fair comparison, yes," said Giles. "Hostile 100's function for the Xenomorphs appears to be the same as the queen in an ant colony, in that it is in charge of the other organisms and is the only one reproducing. The aliens have certainly shown signs of intelligence and even coordination thus far, and it is safe to say Hostile 100 is the one in command"

"Okay, fine," said Buffy. "We find Willow, then we make the _Queen_ pay for this, the hospital, making me look bad in front of my boyfriend, and waking me up late."

"Very well. Why don't you ask your neighbours if they heard anything? This doesn't appear to have been a particularly subtle abduction."

As Buffy left, Giles removed his glasses again and took a closer look at the damage. Something seemed to be out of place somehow...

Buffy came back in to see Giles inspecting the window. "Nothing," she said. "No one heard anything strange, or at least noticed it. One of the girls across the hall actually saw the claw marks on the door, and thought it was some New Age art statement!" She sighed. "You know, sometimes I really hate this town."

"Unfortunate," said Giles, not looking away. He was deep in thought. "Buffy, you said that when you chased Hostile 100, it displayed a climbing ability, yes?"

"Sure," she answered. "Climbed right up the side of a building like a giant, evil Edmund Hillary from outer space." She noticed the odd look Giles gave her. "You _do_ know what I mean, right?"

"O-of course, the first man to the top of Mount Everest. I was just under the impression you didn't pay much attention in history class," Giles said.

"Thank Will. She once made me proofread her history report. 'Course, then she went and blamed me for the B."

"Ah... yes. The reason I asked is, if Xenomorphs can climb so well, why did this one apparently sneak into the building, up the stairs, down the hall, all without being seen or heard, and come through the door..."

Buffy caught on. "When there's a perfectly good window."

"Precisely. Even in Sunnydale, I find it hard to believe such a violent attack," he motioned at the damage, "could take place in a public dormitory without anyone noticing at all."

"Wow," said Buffy, "they give a course in Sherlock at Watcher school?"

"Not as such, no. But we did learn how to identify demon attacks, and it certainly does pay to be observant in this line of work." Giles took another look around the room, and headed towards the door. "Did Riley give any description of the new aliens which might account for such changed behaviour?"

"He thinks the adult in the hospital was born from that dog that was captured," Buffy said. "Smaller, four legged, and the thing could definitely climb. He said it actually stuck to the ceiling."

"Interesting..." Giles looked at the claw marks on the door. There were deep gouges in the wood, about a foot long each. "The height of these indicate a bipedal creature..."

Buffy moved past him to get a better look, and as she did something caught her eye; an odd gleam on the doorknob. She knelt down. ""Uh-oh," she said.

"What is it?" asked Giles. She pointed at the small scratches surrounding the keyhole.

"Either aliens carry lockpicks in their shells, or..."

"Some_one_ broke in."

"Right." Buffy went to the computer and checked Willow's discs. "Yep, they're all gone. After they grabbed Willow, they planted all this to make it look like an alien took her, smashed the computer, and took all the data."

"Fascinating." A hard look came over Giles' face. "Now who do we know who would not be pleased with what Willow was doing on her computer?"

* * *

"What have we got?" asked Professor Walsh as she strode imperiously up to Doctor Angleman. Just after she'd finished receiving Riley's report from the hospital Angleman had called, saying he'd found something troubling at one of the Initiative's main circuit junctions. This was not what Walsh had wanted to hear; her mood was already foul after getting the earload of catastrophe from Riley. Bad enough that two people had been killed and two hostiles escaped on her organization's watch, but keeping this quiet was going to be a nightmare. The aliens had been clearly seen, left a lot of evidence, and didn't resemble any sort of creature they could pin this on. The best they could do so far was that a Komodo dragon had escaped from the zoo. This would've made Walsh laugh even if the zoo actually _had_ a Komodo dragon.

But what really infuriated her was that Riley had freely admitted to involving that civilian girlfriend of his. He had gone outside the organization for help to a source that had been proven completely unreliable. This uncharacteristically independent behaviour made Walsh more determined to reign that girl in. She was an uncontrolled factor at a time when her dreams were close to coming to fruition. She could interfere with everything, disturb the order of things. Maybe if she were assimilated into the Initiative she'd be easier to control...

Crouched in the middle of the corridor, Angleman looked up at Walsh. "I can't really say what we've got here, Professor," he said, motioning at the thick rectangular device in front of him. Although its exterior was black and featureless, Angleman had removed a panel, exposing a maze of incomprehensible circuits within. "My field is biology, not electronics. All I can really tell you is that it sure doesn't belong here."

"Where'd you find it?" She asked as she knelt beside him and began examining the device. Passing Initiative personnel cast puzzled looks at the sight of the two most powerful people in the organization on their hands and knees in the middle of a corridor, but neither of them noticed.

"It was wedged in very tightly between two of the conduits." Angleman looked up and pointed at the ceiling, where the panelling had been removed exposing a mass of thick wires and conduits criss-crossed over each other, running from all over the Initiative and meeting at this intersection before continuing on to their destinations. "I was inspecting all the places where the malfunctioning systems could have been affected from and… well, it looks like you were right, Professor."

Walsh traced the maze of wire and plastic within the device with her finger, murmuring softly as she learned its workings. "Miniature microwave transmitter… burst radio transmitter… This thing can emit all kinds of electronic interference, and has a self-contained communications system too." She stood up and looked at the ceiling. "This junction has access to each of the systems that has failed, and is within range of our wiretap control as well- the device can simply sit here, remotely controlled, capturing our bug transmissions and sending it to its controllers while sabotaging whatever they wish to sabotage." The Professor looked back down at the device. "And it can all fit in an ordinary briefcase."

Angleman frowned. "Now who do we know who has access to the base and often goes around with a briefcase?"

Walsh turned away. "Get a team together," she ordered. "I want him alive."

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no!" Anya protested. "You can't just barge in here at this time of night and take my Xander away! I had plans! Erotic plans!"

"Ahn, I have to." Xander turned to comfort his girlfriend as he went up the basement stairs. "Willow's in trouble."

"Is that how it is?" She demanded. "Willow's life is more important than my comfort?"

Xander shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

Anya sat down, pouting. "Fine. I suppose that if she died or something then you'd be sad, and then I'd be sad, so okay. Go save Willow."

"You truly are a saint, Anya," Giles said dryly as Xander and Buffy followed him up the stairs and then outside to his car.

"Okay, so shadowy corporate guy turns out to be evil. In retrospect, not so surprising," Xander said as Giles put the ancient car into gear and sped off at a very un-librarianish speed. "He finds out that Willow might be close to finding out about the evil thing and grabs her, tries to make us think that the aliens did it. That pretty much right?"

"More or less, yeah," said Buffy. "We're gonna do what we've been talking about doing- find Mr. Traeten and have a little chat with him about what he's been hiding. Except now the chat is less likely to involve words and more likely to involve the universal language of violence."

"I can get behind that," said Xander. "Do we know where he is?"

"No, but I was thinking of asking Walsh. She never liked the guy anyway."

"That may not be advisable, Buffy," Giles said. "Walsh isn't any more fond of us than she is of Traeten, and we lost all our evidence against him when Willow was kidnapped. Basing Willow's survival on whether she believes us over the people funding her operation may not be a good idea."

"Hey, why not ask Riley?" Xander said. "He should know, and if we just tell him we need to talk to Traeten and leave out the beating-him-up part, he shouldn't ask any questions."

"It's worth a shot." Buffy pulled out her cell phone and dialled as Giles' car sped further into the night.

* * *

Riley's cell rang and he reached for it carefully, not taking his eyes off the road. He'd been back at the Initiative less than five minutes when Forrest and Graham had filled him in on what had happened. Although tired, Riley had volunteered to be part of the capture team immediately. Anger had given him new enegry. Traeten had seemed like an okay guy who'd gone out of his way to befriend Riley and his men and helped fund the good work they were doing in Sunnydale, but now it looked like all along he'd been bringing the Initiative down from the inside. And Riley did not handle betrayal well.

The three of them weren't much of a force to storm Ravnon's compound, but the multiple crises had stretched the Initiative's manpower beyond its limit. Teams were patrolling the city for further alien attacks, while other teams were watching the many entrances to the old tunnels to keep them from getting out again, and still more teams were sweeping the base for further sabotage. This was in addition to the already busy regular schedule of the Initiative, and the personnel engaged in cleanup at the hospital. If this kept up, they might have to start bringing in people from the regular army base, and then it was bye-bye secrecy. Maybe bye-bye Initiative. It was ironic that they had let Traeten set up his facility and take the DemAlien to free up manpower, but now found themselves strained even further because of his trickery.

With everyone from tech to commando busy, they three were all that could be spared, even for such an important mission. It unsettled Riley to discover that his unit even had any limits. They'd all grown accustomed to the belief that they were the best, that the Initiative's resources and knowledge were limitless, that theirs was an unbeatable force. The revelation that the Initiative could be weak, coupled with the treachery and the disaster at the hospital, had all put Riley in a very bad mood, which he was looking forward to taking out on a certain guy in a suit. He lifted the phone to his ear.

"Finn. Buffy? Um, I'm kind of busy right- Traeten? You want to talk to Traeten?" Forrest and Graham perked their ears up at this. "That, uh, might not be a good id- What kind of information? Wait, hold on Buffy- Can you meet us?" Forrest frowned and mouthed 'What?!' at Riley, but he just waved him off and kept talking. "We're just on our way to, um, talk to Traeten right now. There's some stuff you should know. Where are you? Oh, good. Just take the next left and we should run into each other. No, Buffy, you won't miss us. We're in a Humvee, it's very big and green and noticeable. I am not being snippy!" Forrest buried his head in his hands. "Well, maybe a little, but… I'm under a bit of stress right now. I'll explain when we meet up. Okay, love you." He clicked the phone shut as Forrest began to talk.

"Riley, I know that I have to serve as both brains and beauty for this outfit, so I'm just gonna remind you: about twenty, twenty-five minutes ago you asked those civilians for help and they completely dropped the ball. And now you're just inviting them back into our business again?" Forrest sighed. "I mean, this is personal! This guy hurt the Initiative, it supposed to be the Initiative who brings him the pain!"

"Traeten brought ten security guys to guard that facility, Forrest," Riley said. "That we know of. And he might release the alien we gave him if he's desperate. You feel like taking all that on with just the three of us?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Graham, you're with me, right?"

"Not. Saying. A word."

Now Riley sighed. "Let me rephrase that. Do you honestly think the three of us against everything Ravnon's got in this town is a good idea? Considering what might be at stake?"

Forrest frowned. "Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to bring the civilians to draw fire-"

"No Forrest," Riley said. "No cannon fodder."

Forrest scowled. "Fine, Finn. Bring your girlfriend along. But you're the one who gets to justify it to the Professor. Have fun with that."

They drove.

* * *

"Hey Reddy, got a question for ya. Me and Nale have a little bet, whether the thing goes for your throat or guts first. When it wakes up, could you not squirm around, make sure we get a clear view? I like to keep these things fair."

It really had been a long night.

Kong's request was only typical of the 'human company' Traeten had left her with. Between his sadistic jokes and Nale's truly pathetic attempts at flirting with her, she was starting to look forward to the creature's awakening. Mercifully, Traeten hadn't returned yet, and her other captors weren't nearly as talkative. Russell had done nothing the whole time, except stare blankly as he methodically cleaned every gun on the rack. Toni was restless and twitchy, constantly pacing and fiddling with his knife, but rarely said anything. A few minutes ago there'd been a brief burst of activity. Kong, who seemed to be in charge, had spoken with one of the scientists about something, and then the guards had passed weapons out amongst themselves, talking concernedly about 'losing contact' with someone or something, about something that wasn't transmitting anymore, and had mentioned 'the other team'. But once they had guns in their hands they hadn't done or said anything else, and Willow could do nothing except wonder what was going on now.

As for the two scientists, they hadn't even looked at her. They were in charge of monitoring the scientific equipment installed in the cell, and by extension, Willow herself. Looking up, she could see a video camera, microscope, infrared sensor, UV filter, and a half dozen things she couldn't even guess at clustered in a small, heavily reinforced pit in the ceiling.

This constant surveillance automatically ruled out many of Willow's options for escape. Most of the magic that she could do without ingredients needed a lot of concentration, and unless Traeten was completely stupid, he would have briefed the doctors to watch carefully for any signs she was going into a meditative trance. What was she going to do? She couldn't pretend to cooperate with Traeten. The guy practically- no, he _did_ lie for a living. He'd definitely not be easy to fool.

Suddenly, there was a sound of movement beside her. Willow froze in terror, then turned her head slowly to see that the DemAlien had only twitched in its sleep. But it was definitely getting closer to consciousness. Its breathing was stronger, its muscles more tense. As she watched, one of its fingers flexed, then straightened, then curled up again. She wondered if it might be dreaming.

She was almost out of time. If she didn't get out of here, the alien would wake up, or Traeten would think of some other way to convince her, or her friends would charge into the claws of the aliens trying to rescue her… She had to get out. Willow thought there was one spell which could work: the Hammer of Nish'ta. It was definitely strong enough to shatter the shield- and her arms along with it, since a witch at her level trying to do the spell in a hurry without the proper herbs would almost definitely create a magical backlash which would blow her limbs off. But she was out of options. _Besides,_ she thought, _I might get lucky. Right?_

Carefully, not giving any sign of what she was doing, Willow started mentally preparing herself, both for the spell... and the likely amputation. One way or another, the long night was about to end.


	21. Demise

Willow's hands began to tremble. To her watchers, she was doing nothing but sitting as far away from the alien as possible, taking deep, regular breaths. But within her, mystical energy was being channelled through her body to her fingertips, where it would be released like a magical firecracker against whatever was unfortunate enough to be near her hands, like, say, the barrier of the cell. This was the Hammer of Nish'ta in a nutshell, if you chose to overlook the fact that an improperly prepared and completely unequipped attempt like this one would almost definitely cause an equally destructive backlash against the caster.

Another deep breath. Willow kept her eyes open and moving, being careful not to look trance-y. The air around the tips of her fingers began to shimmer and waver, ever so slightly. Willow could feel herself almost at that spot where power and control were balanced enough to-

The door swung open and Traeten walked in, striding up to her cell. Her concentration suddenly broken, Willow felt the energy recede back into her.

"Hello again, Willow." He was smiling again. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, I hope you've been comfortable." Willow heard a faint _zap_ outside, but no one else seemed to notice. "Have you decided whether to cooperate? I'm afraid that you no longer have any time to consider." He motioned at the alien, which was beginning to stir. Willow was thinking of a response, something wittily defiant would have been nice, but before she could speak everything went completely to hell.

A round object smashed through the window, ricocheted off the ceiling, and glanced off Traeten's head, toppling him to the floor. Before he even hit the ground, the smoke grenade exploded with a _whump_, filling the room with dense black smoke and clouding Willow's view of what was going on. The Ravnon guards scrambled in all directions as the doctors took cover behind their chairs. Willow heard glass shatter, a loud _bang_, and thought she saw a flash of yellow hair in the chaos.

_Buffy?_

A deep, throaty snarl came from beside her, and Willow's head whipped around to see that the DemAlien had been awakened by the attack. Limbs twitching, head swivelling, drool spilling from its double jaws, it took in its surroundings, then rolled heavily onto all fours. Its eyeless skull focused on her, and it snarled again.

* * *

The grenade had destroyed most of the window, and Buffy shattered the rest with a single kick, then leaped through into the swirling smoke. She landed next to a gun rack, a man in front of her in the process of grabbing a rifle from it. Buffy thought this was a bit redundant, considering the submachine gun already slung around his shoulders and the pistol at his side, but wasn't going to complain about the free hit. Before the man could turn she lunged forward, seized his head from behind, and slammed it into the unforgiving steel rack. He dropped to the ground, unconscious. The gun rack promptly added injury to injury, overbalancing and falling heavily on top of him, weapons clattering onto the floor.

After a hasty rendezvous with Riley and the other two Initiative guys, they'd compared notes and had been surprised at how liberally Traeten had been spreading the screwage around: the Scoobies hadn't expected him to have the guts to double-cross his own customers, while the Initiative hadn't expected kidnapping on top of sabotage. Working quickly, they'd put together a plan to attack the compound, and then the Humvee had led the way there, crunching Traeten's car when it had parked.

Behind her, she heard screams, gunfire, sounds of battle. An acrid smell was in the air, courtesy of the smoke grenade. She knew that Riley, Forrest and Xander were rushing the door while Graham handled the grenade launcher and Giles manned the radio in case of trouble, and spared a thought for how they were faring before she whirled around, ready for the next threat. The entire process, from entry to reminiscence to knockout, had taken less than ten seconds, and the element of surprise seemed to still be with them.

A man stepped over Traeten's sprawled, unmoving body, wielding a large, nasty-looking serrated knife. As he cautiously advanced, Buffy realized that the screams sounded an awful lot like Willow...

* * *

Xander gripped the tiny telescoping baton tightly as he, Riley and Forrest moved in on the compound. He would have preferred a more potent weapon- heck, _any_ other weapon- but Forrest had not liked the idea of a civilian having any sort of military equipment at all, proclaiming that "Getting eaten by a demon, I'm fine with that. Part of the job I signed up to do. But I am not going out by accidentally getting shot in the back by a dumb civilian. I have standards." Which had prompted Xander to point out that it had been the _Initiative's_ idea to let the sleazy corporate guy set up his own base in Sunnydale and hand him a killer alien while they were at it, so who were really the dumb people here? This had made it necessary for Riley to point out that there was still a person in there who needed rescuing, so could Xander please just take a baton?

It was beginning to look like he might as well have come unarmed; the Initiative guys might not be very polite, but their game was tight tonight. The sentry outside the building hadn't seen a thing before Riley had zapped him into unconsciousness, and now the three of them were almost to the door. Judging by the panicked yells coming from within the smoke-shrouded facility, the Ravnon guys were still figuring out what was going on. Out of the corner of his eye Xander saw Buffy charging the window.

"Go, go, go!" Riley yelled as he ran, Xander right behind him. Forrest, who was wielding a rifle and explosives, dashed forward and slapped a plastic charge onto the lock of the door, then leaped back and pushed the detonator. The lock vanished in a cloud of sparks and more smoke, and the door swung open. Riley fired his blaster inside, and the man unfortunate enough to have been standing within the doorway fell to the ground, writhing as electricity poured through him.

Forrest moved in on the building, Riley covering him, while Xander hung back, unsure where he fit into this SWAT stuff. On his right Graham was moving up to join the fray. Forrest entered the doorway, swept his rifle to the left-

And dropped to the ground as a pistol butt crashed into his skull with merciless force from the right. As the unconscious commando hit the ground the attacker, a hulking black man dressed the same way as the rest of the Ravnon guards, stepped into the doorway, raised the pistol, and shot Riley in the chest.

* * *

Willow screamed. The alien towered over her, splashing drool on her face. It's tail was wrapped like an iron band around her legs, and she could feel the cold, poisonous tip moving up the leg of her pants, pressed against her flesh, searching for a soft spot to sting...

Terrified, desperate, she put her hands out and thought _go away!_ with all the intensity her soul could muster. It wasn't a spell, just a sheer, emotion-driven outpouring of desperate magical energy, and it knocked the creature back. Stumbling, its tail lashed out and struck the glass behind it, triggering a powerful shock which sent it down on all fours. It whirled around, snarling, to meet this new attack. As it butted its head into the glass, receiving another shock for its troubles, Willow caught her breath.

Taking advantage of the respite, she looked past the alien's bulk as it continued to puzzle over the shield. The smoke had cleared to a fine haze, allowing her to see the battle clearly. Except for Kong and Toni, all the Ravnon employees were down, or in the case of the doctors, cowering. Toni was grappling with Buffy, who was twisting his knife arm behind his back painfully in an attempt to make him drop his prized weapon. But Kong had been waiting by the doorway when the commandoes had come through, and it looked like he'd knocked one of them out, and he'd just shot-

But then there was no more time for looking, as the DemAlien remembered her and turned around, baring its teeth.

* * *

Giles watched in horror as Riley fell to the ground. _Please let him be all right,_ he thought, _Buffy's suffered enough heartache, and I like the lad, please let him be all right._ Xander threw himself on top of Riley, both to protect the soldier and himself, but it was a useless gesture. He and Riley were on the ground, completely exposed, less than twenty feet away, and Giles' stomach twisted in on itself, expecting the two to die right then and there.

But the guard hadn't spotted Graham, who had slung the grenade launcher over his shoulder and now aimed his blaster at the attacker's head. The movement caught the goon's eye at the last second and he ducked, the blast of electricity arcing over him and travelling into the building. Something in the facility blew, and the lights went out, plunging the brawl within into darkness. The big guard shot back at Graham and Giles saw sparks fly as the bullet struck the grenade launcher, and then Graham screamed as his weapon exploded spectacularly.

A dark cloud of smoke enveloped the building. Giles couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear that the gunman was still firing. He briefly considered the radio beside him, then dismissed it. Calling that Walsh woman wouldn't bring any meaningful help aside from a cutting remark. Leaving the radio behind, staying low, Giles headed into the cloud.

* * *

The huge cloud of smoke washed over Xander like a tidal wave as he rolled off of Riley. Bullets whined over his head as the guard kept firing at Graham, which gave Xander hope that he might still be alive. _Upside of fighting vampires and demons,_ he told himself. _They may try to sacrifice, eat, or seduce you, but they usually don't have guns._ He didn't think Riley was badly hurt, he hadn't screamed or anything, but that was going to change for all of them fast if that guy kept shooting. Forcing himself to his feet, he saw that the guard was still facing in Graham's direction, slamming a new clip into his pistol.

Xander knew it was the only chance he was going to get. He lowered his head and charged, covering the distance between himself and the goon as fast as his legs could carry him, knowing that if the guy turned his head he'd be dead in a second. Only a little further… The guard spotted him and began to turn, but there were only a few feet left now…

Contact.

* * *

It was easier this time, even though she was now doing it in the dark. As the alien reared up on its hind legs and started towards her, Willow visualized it flying backwards and pushed mentally. The creature screeched as an invisible force sent it staggering back into the shield, blasting it with electricity yet again. But this time, when it went down it stayed on all fours and began crawling towards Willow again. A low, piercing hiss came from its mouths and its muscles were taut with fury. She shoved again, only to cry out as a stab of pain shot through her overtaxed mind. The push was weaker, and the alien was more stable on all fours. It rocked back a couple of inches, then kept coming. Its second mouth shot out at her throat, missed, caught her shirt instead, and pulled her in...

* * *

Riley grabbed at his body armour, trying to see where he'd been hit. Despite the pain in his upper right chest, which felt like someone had used it for shotputting practice, an odd sense of calm washed over him as he methodically searched his body for blood. He'd always had a strange willingness to accept physical injury without fear or complaint.

There was no wound, though he'd likely have a nasty bruise. Whatever kind of pistol Ravnon was using, it didn't have a lot of penetrating power, and hadn't been able to defeat the Initiative's protective gear. With the threat gone, Riley cleared his mind, got back into combat mode and took stock of the situation. It had been about ten seconds since he'd been hit, but everything had changed. He couldn't see more than two feet in front of him because of the thick cloud of smoke in the air, and the gunfire had stopped. Forrest lay stunned at the threshold of the facility, moving weakly, but there was no sign of Xander, Mr. Giles or Graham.

A gust of wind suddenly cleared the smoke in front of him as he regained his feet, and Riley saw where Xander was. He was inside the darkened building, pinned to a counter by the gunman, who was about to blow his brains out.

* * *

It was like running into a brick wall. A brick wall with a gun and an attitude. But Xander's body check did make the guy stop shooting, knocking him slightly off balance. Before he could follow up, the Ravnon guard seized Xander by the front of his shirt with one hand and shoved him to one side. He fell onto his side, skidding slightly, amazed at how strong the guy was. As he scrambled to his feet, there was a soft _click_ as the facility's soft red emergency lighting turned on, bathing the embattled compound in bloody hues.

The gunman grabbed him again, this time around the neck. Struggling futilely, Xander was driven backwards into a counter. Chemistry equipment toppled off and shattered as he was bent backwards over it, but he didn't notice. All his attention was focused on the cold metal of the pistol being pressed into his forehead.

"You've got to be the dumbest guy I've ever killed," rumbled the man above him, smirking.

"You've got to be the ugliest guy who's ever tried!" he shot back. The goon's eyes narrowed, and then Xander felt pain he'd never imagined before.

* * *

This guy _really_ liked his knife. Buffy twisted his wrist again, and again he somehow managed to hold on, this time swinging his free hand towards her kidney. She caught the punch easily, let him go, and then clocked him with a left to the jaw. He fell down, started to get back up, and went down for good as Buffy's heel connected with his forehead.

Buffy turned to the other side of the facility, where the commandoes were supposed to be in and in control by now. Instead, there was just Xander, about to be shot point-blank in the head. And in the cell at the back of the room she saw Willow, in the grip of the creature she'd fought in the park.

Suddenly, a blast of electricity arced across the room and sent both Xander and his attacker falling to the ground. Freed from her dilemma, Buffy streaked towards the cell holding Willow and the alien. But even as she drew closer, its hand drew back for a killing swipe and Willow screamed...

* * *

Riley let out his breath. It had been a big risk, taser-blasting the guard while his finger was on the trigger. The electric surge might have triggered a muscle spasm which would have ended Xander's life. As it was, the blast traveled through both men, splitting its force between them and stunning them both temporarily. Xander rolled off the counter onto the floor while the Ravnon guard fell to his knees, dropping the pistol, but immediately started to rise.

Riley sighted on his chest and fired again, but nothing except a fizzling noise came from the weapon. "Damn!" he said as the huge man reached for the pistol. Maggie had promised to fix that thing after the incident with the Gentlemen, but the experimental gun was as temperamental as ever.

Before the guard could retrieve his weapon, Riley hurled himself at him. The two crashed to the floor, gun spinning away from them. With a grunt, the heavier man flipped himself on top of Riley, pinning him. Riley pulled out his hand taser, but before he could strike stars exploded before the commando's eyes as a fist slammed into his face, and the taser fell to the floor.

Beside them, Xander's muscles were stiff and painful. He seemed to be alive, and had no idea what had happened. He felt like that time in fourth grade he'd tried to show Willow how to repair a battery, only a couple dozen times worse.

A cry of pain brought him back to the battle. Raising himself up on one arm, he saw the ugly guy, minus gun, pounding Riley, who didn't seem to be shot at all. Xander put aside his confusion and struggled to his feet. He stumbled around the counter, gaining momentum as his muscles recovered from the shock. He lunged forward and slammed into the black-clad guard, toppling him off Riley. The three fell to the floor in a yelling, punching heap.

* * *

"Hey!" yelled Buffy as she sprinted forward. It was a trick so old that there may have been cave paintings dedicated to it, but the DemAlien hadn't been around for long. Its claws paused inches away from Willow's throat as its head swivelled to identify the source of the noise.

Not breaking stride, Buffy leapt into the plexiglass shield of the cell feetfirst. The barrier had been built to withstand attacks from the inside, not the outside, and a circular series of cracks spread across the shield. The alien hissed as it realized it was under attack, then hurled Willow back against the cell wall. She struck it with a _thunk_ and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

With a sudden, powerful movement the DemAlien slammed into the already weakened shield. No electricity touched its body now, and the plexiglass shattered into dozens of razor shards. An especially large piece hurtled towards the Slayer's face, and she snapped her head to the side, feeling the air from its passage brush her skin. It was all the distraction the creature needed; hurling itself forward it tackled Buffy and bore her to the ground with its superior weight. Falling on her back, she brought her legs up and heaved the alien off of her. The scientists screamed in horror at the sight of the beast free of its cell. Screaming "It's loose! It's loose!" they ducked further under the lab counter.

As she scrambled to her feet, she spared a moment to look past the alien at Willow, who was beginning to stir in the cell. The alien hissed, hesitated. Maybe it remembered what had happened the last time it had fought this small, yellow-furred prey. She hoped it did, and that it wasn't smart enough to tell the difference between 'Buffy with an arsenal of weapons and a squad of commandoes' and 'Buffy alone and unarmed'.

The creature lunged at her, snarling. It was smart enough, or it just didn't care. Buffy bent over, grabbed its reaching arm, and flipped it over her back. Its momentum flung it headfirst into the floor, and it scrambled up. The Slayer looked around for something, anything she could use. Against an armoured creature like this, she couldn't punch with full force without needing finger casts and a _serious_ manicure. And she didn't see kicks alone bringing this thing down. She wished she'd brought at least a stake along, even though she'd expected this outing to be one of the rescue-Willow-and-beat-the-weasel-for-information variety, not a crash course in small-scale warfare.

The DemAlien's hands lashed out and seized her shoulders, tried to pull her to its jaws. She twisted away from the hands while kicking upwards with her right foot, smashing her heel right into the thing's teeth. It took a step back, but was otherwise unfazed.

Yep, kicks were definitely not going to do the trick here.

* * *

Xander rolled onto his knees. The big man's face was right in front of him, eerily lit by the emergency lighting. Xander let his instincts take over, lashing out with a left jab that knocked the mercenary's head back. He responded with a fierce backhand with his clenched fist that struck Xander's face and sent him to the floor. He quickly got to his feet, but the goon moved first; seizing him with one hand and drawing the other back for a bone-crushing punch heading for Xander's nose. But before it connected Riley swept the arm aside, and followed up with a right to the chin. The guard toppled backwards, but he snatched at Riley's shoulder, dragging the soldier down with him.

"Xander!" It was Giles at the doorway, looking somewhat the worse for wear.

"Giles!"

They saw Buffy fighting the creature. Its tail shot up between its legs, towards the Slayer's stomach, and she dodged away. Behind them, Willow was stumbling to her feet. Riley seemed to be getting the gunman under control, in the repeated-punches-to-the-face sense.

"Help Buffy," said Giles as he headed for Willow. Xander nodded and grabbed the guard's pistol, then reconsidered and went for the rifle that Forrest had been carrying. He had a feeling he'd need the firepower.

As Xander armed himself, the alien's revolting second mouth shot out again, and Buffy ducked under it, spun, and slammed the heel of her hand into the beast's chin, with almost no effect besides making her hand hurt. It was a stalemate. Its demon heritage made the DemAlien stronger and tougher, but it didn't have the vicious speed Hostile 100 had displayed during the fight in Buffy's house. But while so far she'd stayed ahead of its attacks, she had no way of really hurting the thing.

"Buffy, Willow, get down!" She turned, saw Xander lifting a gun to his shoulder and dove out of the way.

Meanwhile, Riley grabbed the hand tazer from the ground, pressed it against Kong's chest, and sighed with relief as the volts ripping through the man's bulky body sent him into twitching unconsciousness. He hadn't had this bad a fight against a human since boot camp. He looked up and saw Xander about to fire on the alien.

"Xander, stop!" He said, scrambling to his feet. "Walsh wants it-"

The rifle Forrest had brought on the attack had been chosen specifically to deal with the possibility of the alien escaping. A CAR-15 rifle, it was the 5.56-mm 'green tip' armour-piercing cartridge. This bullet is designed to puncture metal with ease, and while it is unlikely that its makers ever gave thought to its effect on alien exoskeletons, they probably would have been pleased with its performance when Xander pulled the trigger.

The first burst fired was slightly off-centre. Of the three bullets, only one found its mark, tearing into the Xenomorph's right shoulder, spraying acid all over the floor. Fortunately, none of the areas which began to smoke and liquefy from contact with the otherworldly blood were near where Buffy was regrouping towards Riley and Xander, or near the cell where Giles was helping Willow away from the combat.

The DemAlien's arm hung limp and useless at its side, muscles destroyed and nerves severed by the wound. However, one of the green-tip's drawbacks is its lack of stopping power compared to larger, conventional bullets, a drawback the alien's extreme durability didn't exactly help. Enraged, the creature turned and started to advance on Xander, who sighted on its head and fired again and again...

Once again, the effects of Ethan Rayne's mischief served Xander well, as his pseudo-military experience guided his shots with lethal precision. The bullets slammed into the front of the DemAlien's smooth head, blasting blood, bone, and what might have been the alien equivalent of brains out the back of the DemAlien's skull. It stopped in mid-stride as the contents of its demolished head sizzled on the ground around it. Then, slowly, it wobbled, teetered, and collapsed on the ground like the corpse it was.

There was a moment of silence, as they stared at the slain creature and Xander lowered the rifle. Then Riley remembered his sentence. "... alive," he finished.

"Riley, if I hadn't listened when you'd said that in the basement, this would have ended long ago." Buffy pointed out gently. Without waiting for an answer from her boyfriend, she went to Willow. Riley opened his mouth, then closed it in a grim line, and went to check on his men.

Xander was with Willow too, who seemed to recovered from her impact with the wall and was smiling at her friends.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Buffy. "Aside from the goons, crooks, and aliens, of course."

"My head hurts, but I'll be all right," said Willow.

"Me too. That massive electric shock was actually kind of refreshing," Xander said.

"I'm fine, aside from the smoke I inhaled while checking on Graham," said Giles. "His weapon exploded, and the blast knocked him out, but other than that he's very lucky."

Xander grinned at Willow. "Geez Will, the year's not even half over and this is, what, the third, fourth time you've been in deadly peril?" He remarked. "You keep this up, and you just might top Giles' record."

"Yes, and what a bittersweet moment that promises to be," Giles said wryly.

At the doorway, Riley helped Forrest to his feet. He was looking slightly unsteady, on account of the pistol butt he'd taken on his head, but that didn't stop him from heading over to the two scientists, handcuffs extended. They seemed almost eager to surrender, anything to get away from all this noise and commotion.

There was a groan. Traeten stirred, opened his eyes, raised his head, looked around his ruined facility. He saw his employees unconscious, his equipment smashed. Then he saw the bleeding, ruined body of the alien, and looked like he was going to be sick. A shadow fell over him. It was Riley.

"Jacob Traeten," he said, "You are hereby under arrest for espionage, sabotage, assault, kidnapping, attempted murder, and treason against the government of the United States."

Traten said nothing. For once, he wasn't smiling.

* * *

A/N: In Season 4 prior to this story, Willow is attacked by Harmony and is rescued by Oz, attacked by Veruca and rescued by Oz again, is trapped in a burning building and has to be rescued by cave-Buffy, and then the Initiative tries to capture her and Buffy stops them. And now this. 


	22. Profit Motive

A/N: I hope you guys like Traeten and Professor Walsh- well, one's a corporate slimeball and the other's a mad scientist, so I can't expect that. But this chapter consists almost completely of dialogue between them, so you'll have to bear with them in return for finally getting answers about what's been going on in Sunnydale since the meteor landed.

* * *

"And then of course came the mandatory gloating, where Traeten said they'd made it look like an alien had taken me, and that when you came to rescue me, you'd be heading smack into the aliens' Hive. Whatever that is."

The Scoobies had gone back to Giles' home to talk about what happened and for a cup of post-rescueage tea. Willow was feeling much better, and was telling them about her brief captivity.

"It sounds like the aliens' home, their nest in Sunnydale," Giles said. "Doubtless it's located somewhere in the tunnels you and Riley explored previously, Buffy. If I'm correct about Hostile 100 being like the Queen in an ant colony, it will undoubtedly need a safe and hidden place to reproduce, and to hold the… incubators… for its children. It's undoubtedly well-defended. A clever tactic of his, trying to get us to charge in there and have the Xenomorphs do his work for him."

"Good thing you saw through it, Giles." Xander said. "Otherwise we'd probably all be having real close encounters right about now."

"Well... yes," he said, cleaning his glasses. "But in retrospect, it was a rather slipshod operation. Did they _really_ expect us not to notice the disks?"

Willow nodded. _So much for him treating us like grownups,_ she thought. She realized that while Traeten might have been smart enough to take all their abilities into account in his plans, he had no true respect for them as people, let alone as intelligent ones. _One of the drawbacks of treating everyone like a tool, I guess._

"That's not all," said Xander. "Our slick-suited friend has been a very busy boy with the folks his company works with."

"You mean the Initiative?" asked Willow.

Buffy nodded. "They found what's been causing all the weird power outages there. Looks like Traeten planted some kind of sabotage gizmo a while back, and was using it to mess with the Initiative's systems."

Willow furrowed her brow. "But... that means the power failure that let out Hostile 100..."

"Looks like it," said Buffy. "I don't know why either."

"It's a good question," Xander said. "If I'm the kind of guy who lives, eats, sleeps and breathes for the bottom line, where's the profit for me in letting a giant, homicidal alien loose to trash my customer's place and terrorize the town?"

"I believe the Initiative is asking Traeten exactly that question right about now," said Giles. "I daresay it won't be in a very pleasant manner."

"Yeah," said Willow. There was a pause. "I'm not feeling any sympathy. Is there anything wrong with that?"

They all shook their heads.

* * *

"Is it just me, or were you expecting this to be less pleasant?" Riley asked Forrest as they walked away from the Initiative cell where Jacob Traeten now sat strapped to a chair, hooked by IV tube to a potent concoction of drugs.

"I was personally hoping for something involving electricity and exploratory surgery, but I guess the Professor knows best. We do need this guy's information," Forrest said. He turned around. "Professor, you sure you don't want any help in there?" he called.

Walsh, sitting across from Traeten, shook her head. Riley and Forrest shrugged and kept walking, and she waited until they were out of sight before beginning the interrogation. All surveillance systems in this part of the Initiative had been shut off. She and Traeten were completely alone. The drugs being dripped into his bloodstream, combined with his recent concussion, had not been kind to him. Traeten was sweating and his head drooped, mouth open and eyes glazed. To make things worse for him, his immaculate suit had been taken from him, and he faced Professor Walsh in his underclothes. Hurt, confused, stripped of his dignity, Walsh was sure he was in no condition to offer any resistance. She leaned forward.

"Mr. Traeten," she said. "Mr. Traeten, can you hear me?"

There was a barely audible sound from Traeten which might have been an inhalation, or a simple groan. She opened her mouth to speak again, but-

"Yes." He spoke with surprising clarity, voice apparently unaffected by the drugs. "Yes I can hear you." Slowly, by millimetres, he raised his head. Walsh looked into his eyes and saw that though they were unfocused, the keen mind behind them was still at least partially working. She hoped he was incapacitated enough to not lie.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "The Initiative and your civilian acquaintances attacked my company's facility."

"That's right. We know that you've been sabotaging the Initiative. We know that you kidnapped a civilian and tried to murder her."

"Please, Professor. There's been a misunderstanding. You know how much we value our relationship with our Initiative customers..." Traeten's voice trailed off as Walsh, frustrated, reached for the IV and increased the flow of drugs into his body. That he could keep up this charade in these circumstances was nothing short of astounding. It was probably sheer habit, coupled with fear. A company like Ravnon probably had very strict confidentiality contracts. She waited a few minutes before trying again.

Reaching under her chair, she brought up the device that had been found and held it in front of his face. "Do you recognize this?" she said slowly.

Traeten's eyes were now almost closed, his head tilted back, but the voice, the voice that was Traeten's livelihood, his existence, the voice was still strong and clear. "That is a P3X-888 Covert Electronic Warfare and Surveillance Device, developed for sale to the black-ops division of the CIA. It is capable-"

"I've seen what it's capable of," Walsh cut in sharply. "You planted it in the Initiative. Why?"

"I-" Traeten's mouth snapped shut abruptly. His eyes rolled into his head and he went limp with a moan.

"Mr. Traeten." Walsh's voice was beyond frigid. "I know that you're not unconscious, so why don't you just raise your head up and answer my questions? If I were you, I wouldn't be worrying about dishonouring any parts of Ravnon's confidentiality clauses. Your company is finished, Traeten. The United States Government was your only customer, and it is now most upset with you. Ravnon's assets all over the world are being seized as we speak. Your company will be bankrupt within the month, along with any employees that have not been taken into custody by that time. Do you understand?"

Traeten mumbled something. Walsh leaned in closer. It came again.

"We'll sue."

Professor Walsh's mouth dropped wide open. "Excuse me?"

"You assaulted a private enterprise with nothing but circumstantial evidence..." Traeten trailed off as his voice weakened. He drew a shuddering breath, and continued: "and the word of a tabloid, passed on by a civilian computer hacker who-"

"Shut up."

Traeten stopped talking, looked at Walsh. Her face was tense yet expressionless, trying desperately to remain in control, reminding herself that Traeten couldn't talk if he was dead. "I was expecting nonsense and lies from you, Mr. Traeten, but of a higher quality than this. I have to say, I'm a little disappointed." She shook her head in disgust. "You and I know that both Ravnon and the Initiative are completely secret entities. Neither of us even officially exist, and there is no legal recourse for or against something that doesn't exist. You certainly can't sue us-" Walsh snorted at the suggestion that her organization was vulnerable to something as trivial as civic law.

Traeten managed a sickly smile. "Ordinarily, this would be true. However, I think you'll find that our law firm is _highly_ specialized, especially in... unique situations like these. I assure you, they can take and win any case."

"Ah." Walsh regarded him blankly. "No doubt the best lawyers money can buy."

"Oh, yes. We spared no expense."

"The best lawyers your soon-to-be-bankrupt company can buy and somehow pay-"

Walsh stopped talking, taken aback at the look of sheer horror that fleeted over Traeten's face at the thought of Ravnon not being able to pay its legal fees. She wondered exactly what sort of lawyers the shadowy company had.

A sigh rushed out of Traeten as the fight abruptly left him. Walsh seized her advantage. "When did you plant the device?"

No alibi. No company. No lawyers. No lies. No suit. Nothing. Traeten didn't even hesitate. "When we first started working with you. It was a contingency plan in case our... consumer relations with the Initiative soured."

"And you used it to break out Hostile 100," Walsh said. "Why? Why on Earth?"

"It's a long story."

"Going back to Mongolia."

"Exactly." Traeten sighed. "Could you turn this off?" he motioned weakly at the IV bag, pulsing as its drugs flowed into his body. "I can't concentrate with this... stuff in me..."

Walsh looked at him closely and carefully, then nodded, put the P3X-888 back on the floor, and then reached for the IV system and opened a valve all the way. Traeten's eyes went wide as a potent mixture flooded his system.

"What..." Traeten cleared his throat, regained his composure. "What was that?"

"Feeling better?" Walsh asked.

"Yes... I didn't know there were antidotes to truth serums."

"The Initiative has devoted a great deal of effort researching ways to affect the physiology of humanoid creatures, as you well know," Walsh said. "I don't want you immobilized, Mr. Traeten. We may still have use for you." She smiled very unpleasantly. "Now what happened in Mongolia?"

Traeten took a moment to wonder what use the Initiative could still have for him, decided that was a train of though best left unpursued, and then leaned back, remembering. "I was a junior executive at the time, serving as the liaison between the Exploratory Expeditions Corporation and Ravnon." He looked at Walsh. "You know by now that EEC is one of our front companies, right?"

"Yes."

He nodded and continued. "I was accompanying a five-man mission to the desert in Mongolia. They were looking for mineral deposits and I was there to make sure they reported whatever they found to their parent company. On our third night out, we saw a light in the sky. We thought it was a huge shooting star at first... until the sonic boom. It landed a few miles away from our camp.

"A meteorite?"

Traeten smiled. "Yes. Exactly like the one that landed here. We were very interested in it; rare and valuable minerals have been found in meteorites before. I went with one of the EEC men, MacReady, in a Jeep to take a look."

"And found it was an egg," Walsh said.

"Not right away," Traeten said. "It was so strange-looking that we didn't know what to make of it, and we couldn't get a close look at it because it was still incredibly hot from re-entry. We took it back to the camp, and decided to let it cool off for a while before trying to study it."

Walsh tapped her foot, thinking. "Did you find anything like the heat shield Sunnydale's egg arrived in?

"Yes," said Traeten. "After the evacuation, a team sent to the impact site found similar fragments. We've been testing them ever since, and wherever they come from and whatever they're made of, it's an incredible heat insulator. The egg itself becomes extremely hot, but thanks to the shield, the organism inside survives, but remains dormant for several hours. We think that after landing, the egg is still too hot to become active and allow the creature to emerge."

"For the _egg_ to become active?" asked Walsh.

"Yes. The egg is an organism in itself. It draws moisture from the environment, regulates temperature, does everything it can to keep the prelarval creature inside alive. The material it's made of is extremely tough. We don't know what, if anything, it uses for yolk, but it looks like the egg could maintain the Xenomorph for a very, very long time. But that's not the most remarkable thing."

"Oh?"

"We think the eggs are pressure-sensitive. An organism touching one causes it to hatch. That's what happened to Mandrake," Traeten said.

"He was impregnated by the alien?"

"Yes. We'd already realized it was organic before it happened, and were all very excited. This was the biggest thing EEC had ever found, the biggest thing _anyone_ had ever found... Life from beyond Earth. We all realized the enormous profit potential. That's why I wasn't there when it happened. I was contacting my superiors, helping them get our claim to ownership of the object airtight." Traeten seemed to have recovered completely from the drugging by now, and Walsh was pleased that her counter-serum had worked so well.

"You were afraid EEC would try to take it?" she asked.

"No, no. EEC _is_ Ravnon," Traeten clarified. "What little separation there is between the two is only for the needs of secrecy. However, EEC is made up of very... enterprising individuals, with a healthy sense of opportunism. One of my main reasons for being there was to remind them who writes their checks. There was also the chance the Mongolian government would try something if they discovered it, since it landed in their territory. We went through a lot of trouble to keep that from happening. We had no idea that it was the least of our worries..."

"When did the egg become active?" Walsh asked.

"A few hours after we brought it back. Mandrake was trying to take tissue samples from it, which must have triggered the hatching. I was talking to my superiors, and suddenly heard screaming and yelling. When I got there, Mandrake was unconscious and the creature was latched onto his face."

"Interesting," Walsh observed dispassionately. "Mr. Giles was asleep when the egg in his home hatched."

"I've been wondering about that myself," admitted Traeten. "It may be that the eggs even have a basic memory of the last time they were touched. There's no way to be sure. Anyway, we were all a little... upset after what happened to Mandrake. We informed Ravnon, of course, but no one else. We were still hoping to keep the alien secret. My superiors said they'd send a chopper to extract Mandrake and the egg, and that we should stay put until then."

Traeten continued. "It was a mineral expedition, so we had almost no medical equipment. All we could do was make Mandrake comfortable and observe him closely. There were several attempts at removing the creature by force, but it had attached itself so tightly it couldn't be budged at all. And when Walters tried to cut it off... I was there for that. It was fascinating. One moment the knife was digging into the exoskeleton, the next there was green on the blade and Walter's hand." He grimaced. "A few seconds later the knife was completely dissolved and there was a hole in his hand you could store pennies in. Interestingly, the acid seems to be less effective on organic matter; metal gets dissolved completely while flesh may be only scarred- as long as the amount of acid is small."

Walsh made a note of that. "Without medical equipment, you couldn't have known why the Xenomorph had attached itself to Mandrake."

"Exactly. We thought it was feeding off him, that it was some sort of parasite. About twelve hours later... we found out we were wrong."

"What did you do when the creature started to expel itself?" Walsh asked.

"Well, it didn't right away. First, the creature on Mandrake's face fell off and died. At the time we thought that it was because it wasn't able to feed off species that weren't from its world, that our systems were just too different. We were very disappointed that it was dead; we thought it meant that our little encounter was already over." Traeten chuckled ruefully. "Mandrake regained consciousness, and was showing no ill effects of his experience, aside from being hungry... And then he started screaming."

Traeten's voice was frighteningly matter-of-fact as he described the death of his colleague. "The creature got away easily after it emerged, of course. It was very fast, and everyone was completely shocked at what had happened. The whole time, we'd managed to convince ourselves we were in control... we kept coming up with wrong explanation after false surmise. Burke was still saying Mandrake was having a heart attack even as his blood sprayed on the ground! We were out of our depth from the start."

"So Mandrake was dead and there was a hostile alien loose in the desert. Was that when you evacuated?" Even as she asked Walsh knew what the answer would be. Traeten would never have let an opportunity like this go so easily.

She was right. "No. I managed to convince the others, with backup from my superiors, that we needed to secure the organism, that we couldn't let something like this slip through our fingers. Ravnon was now rabid for this thing. Not only life from space, but _dangerous_ life, with completely new reproductive and defence systems. The bio-warfare applications alone..."

Walsh nodded. She and Traeten had common ground on their views regarding the Xenomorph's awesome potential, if nothing else.

"I was told that a helicopter would arrive for us when we had captured the alien, to take it and us home. My company," Traeten said wryly, "is very skilled in motivating its employees. After we buried Mandrake, I sent the EEC employees out to search the desert. The organism that hatched from Mandrake was so small I was sure it couldn't have gone far. So I had them fan out around the camp while I coordinated the operation by radio."

"You didn't think the Xenomorph had any more surprises, did you?" Walsh said, purposely needling Traeten. It was unusually indulgent of her, but she felt justified given what Traeten had done to her operation.

"Would _you_ have expected a twelve-inch larva to grow into a seven-foot creature in two hours?" Traeten shot back. "I have to admit, I still have no idea how they do that... What impresses me even more than that, though, is their intelligence. My first inkling that something was wrong was when I lost contact with Walters. It took the wounded, the most vulnerable of us first. It must have achieved complete surprise too: there was never any message from Walters of distress, or even suspicion, and he was one of the toughest on the team. When I sent Burke to find out what happened, he found Walters with his head missing. I ordered everyone back in a hurry, naturally."

"Your superiors must have had a good deal to say about these developments."

"Yes. They said they'd get the chopper in the air immediately, as soon as they'd loaded it with the toughest mercenaries they could get. We would be out of there in hours." Traeten was putting a lot of effort into maintaining his cool, controlled exterior, but Walsh thought he looked tenser as he recalled what had happened during that night of horror in the desert. The experience had affected him more than he dared admit.

"Burke never came back. The alien must have lingered near its kill and... He just disappeared. Now it was just me, MacReady, and Gummer left. We all huddled together in the centre of the camp and waited for the chopper. We didn't know exactly what was happening, none of us had seen what we were dealing with yet, but we could all tell that we were being picked off one by one, and that it was going for whoever was alone. It was night now, and I can tell you it didn't help our state of mind much."

"I can imagine," Walsh said dryly. "How long did you wait?"

"For the helicopter? We were told an hour. For the alien? Half an hour. I still don't know why it came after us. It couldn't have devoured both Walters and Burke's corpses in such a short time, and even if it had it wouldn't still be hungry. Maybe they're like humans, capable of killing for pleasure. I think it was opportunism. They appear have a great instinct for identifying and exploiting advantages and weaknesses. It couldn't pass up a chance to hit a vulnerable, isolated target."

"We've noticed that too," said Walsh. "They seem to especially like ambushes. What did it do to you?"

"Just... rushed us. There was almost no sound, just a faint patter of its feet as it came at us on all fours. I only got a glimpse of it, all I saw was like a large shadow. It came from Gummer and MacReady's side, and they had guns. But they didn't have much experience with them, and their state of mind… seeing that thing coming at us, in the dark… well, it wasn't very conducive to good aiming. They winged it slightly, and then it was gone. The exchange lasted less than five seconds."

"Ten minutes later it tried again. It had learned from last time, and figured out that the guns were what hurt it. So it came after me... This time I saw it perfectly, every single detail. It came for me, fast as a cat, and I froze. I don't know what happened next. I must have fainted or something. Maybe I was able to get out of the way, maybe one of the others saved me… The next thing I can remember is that MacReady was pinned under the alien, screaming and screaming. Gummer had lost his gun somehow and was trying to get it off Burke. I never saw either of them alive again, and I didn't look back as I ran."

"Where did you go?" asked Walsh.

"The other side of the camp. I knew it could catch me easily if I kept going, and there was nowhere to run but miles of desert. I hid as best I could and... just hoped that the helicopter would be early. The alien came for me a few minutes later, covered in blood. It took its time. It knew I was helpless. I remember being amazed at how it moved, how it was built, and I could feel the intelligence of the thing... I could swear that it was looking into my eyes, maybe even considering the best way to finish me. They're quite beautiful creatures you know, in their own unique way," he added conversationally. "It was only a few feet away when the chopper came. I'd closed my eyes, and when I opened them it was gone. It must not have known what to make of this huge, loud, bright thing in the sky and ran for cover."

"So you escaped," said Walsh. "Did the mercenaries catch it?"

"There were no mercenaries. My company wasn't able to get them on such short notice, and had decided on a plan of containment. Shortly after the chopper lifted off the camp was obliterated along with the alien. A Mongolian army artillery unit was conducting live-fire exercises at the time, and their targeting coordinates were mysteriously changed. When a return expedition was mounted, what remained of the creature was so pulverized that it was almost unidentifiable. I was promoted for remembering to grab the egg before I boarded the helicopter, and Ravnon covered up the whole incident. It would have stayed covered up too, if not for that tabloid and those meddling kids." Traeten paused and caught his breath, story done. A few beads of sweat had broken out on his brow as he'd told of the horrors he'd seen in the desert.

"Very interesting, Mr. Traeten," Walsh said. "That clears up a lot, but not the most important things. You released an incredibly dangerous organism on a civilian populace and have impeded the government's attempts to destroy it. I have yet to hear a single sane reason why you would do this. If anything, your experiences should have made you _more_ eager to see the Xenomorph safely dealt with." She looked closely at Traeten. "I also can't help but wonder at what kind of good fortune led to the only member of Ravnon to have previously encountered these creatures being assigned to Sunnydale mere months before the Xenomorph appeared again." She leaned forward aggressively. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

He shook his head emphatically. "No, no. After the Mongolia incident, I was placed in charge of finding, studying, and exploiting the Xenomorphs if they ever appeared again. But in the meantime, since it was clear we were going to have nothing to work with but the empty egg for a while, my superiors decided that my experiences had made me the closest thing we had to an expert on dangerous nonhuman creatures. This eventually led to my posting at the Initiative." He smiled. "I assure you, Ravnon's bosses were absolutely overjoyed when another egg came, practically on the doorstep of their best qualified man for the job."

Walsh frowned. "So the alien appeared, and your company's dreams seemed to have come true," she said, "But what I am especially curious about, Mr. Traeten, is _why_ exactly Ravnon wanted to take the Xenomorph from the Initiative. Our research-sharing agreement would have given the company absolutely everything it needed to fully pursue the alien's industrial uses. You would have gotten everything you wanted, and reaped immense profits. We just wanted it for military research."

"Exactly," said Traeten. "Just exploiting the industrial applications would have been no good. A monopoly on the defence potential is what we were after, and for that, we needed to be the only ones who had the alien- preferably the only ones who knew it existed."

Walsh frowned, thinking. The only defence potential for the alien she could think of, aside from the gleaming breakthroughs it offered project 314, was the possibility of replicating its armour somehow. The industrial applications, on the other hand, were massive. The immensely powerful acid alone could revolutionize manufacturing. Unless...

"You weren't thinking of _taming_ them, were you?"

He laughed. "No, no. That would be an extremely... risky proposition at best. I'm surprised at you Professor. Haven't you realized what's really happening here?"

"Yes. You seem to be forgetting that you're a prisoner."

Traeten deflated noticeably, but kept talking. "Two eggs of this organism have landed on this planet in the last few decades, Professor. Do you know what the odds are of that happening by chance? Literally astronomical, even if you assume there are _trillions_ of eggs which just happen to be tumbling through space. Outer space is simply too vast for such a thing to happen by chance. No," he shook his head, "Someone- or something- is launching the eggs towards Earth, is _sending_ these things to us. Something that wants us, the entire human race, wiped out."

Walsh stared. If Traeten was right... "So that's why you released Hostile 100. If you had the only Xenomorph specimens, you would have a monopoly on the defence of the entire planet."

"Exactly." Traeten was amazingly frank about wanting to hold the human race's survival ransom. "We expected that sooner or later, a Xenomorph infestation was going to take permanent root on Earth and become a serious threat, or at least make the world leaders sit up and take notice. Once the governments of the world had realized we were being targeted by these 'meteors', they would be desperate to find out more. And if Ravnon was the only entity who really knew what we were dealing with, we would be able to name our price- money, power, influence, anything- for information on the enemy. Allowing the military to keep even one creature would have wrecked everything."

"Do you really think the Xenomorph has the potential to destroy the human race?" Walsh asked. She knew that the aliens were incredibly dangerous, and that they reproduced rapidly, but a world-destroying infestation... her mind refused to accept it.

Traeten eyed her amusedly. "You really don't know what you've got here, do you?" he said.

"I am rapidly growing tired of your insolence, Mr. Traeten," Walsh said. "Either cut to the chase or-"

"This isn't one of the overgrown animals you drag in here every day." Traeten's business facade suddenly cracked. "It's not one of the gimmicky creatures your civilian acquaintances kill on a weekly basis. The Xenomorph is _perfect_. It's the natural occurrence of what you've been trying to create artificially in Project 314: the absolute killing machine. Strong, fast, hard to kill, driven to survive at any cost, superbly adaptable, and equipped with enough cunning to plan and remember, but free of the weaknesses of conscience and sentiment that come with full intelligence."

"Yes," he continued, "I think the Xenomorph is very capable of destroying this planet. Maybe not today, not in Sunnydale, with the Slayer and the Initiative here to oppose them. But what about a meteor landing in a refugee camp in Africa? A slum in Hong Kong? There, the infestation could easily grow into the thousands and spread miles before-"

"Enough." Walsh shut Traeten up with a wave of her hand. His uncharacteristic admiration of these monsters annoyed her almost as much as his rudeness. "This is all besides the point. Your company isn't getting its monopoly, and whatever threat the Xenomorphs pose will now be evaluated and dealt with by the United States government. Get back to what you were up to after you released Hostile 100."

Traeten sighed, and resumed his normal behaviour. "We've had our facility poised for deployment ever since we learned about the alien's arrival. While it was captive, I planted a number of tiny beacons in its food every day. Enough of them remained in its body that our employees were able to track it after it's escape."

Walsh was shocked. "You've known where it was the whole time?"

"Oh, yes. Only half our people were guarding the facility. The second team has been observing the Hive ever since Hostile 100 settled there. Eventually we were going to recapture it, once we had enough data. It's going quite well... or was, until you and those ignorant civilians ruined it."

Something suddenly clicked for Walsh. "You had already located the aliens when we swept Weatherly Park, hadn't you? That wasn't a police officer who tried to stop us. It was one of your employees in disguise, sabotaging our operation."

"Yes, it was." He hid it well, but Walsh thought Traeten was a little disappointed at not getting to reveal this bit dramatically. She kept pressing.

"And the malfunctions your device was causing... You've been using them to manipulate us, pressure us into doing what you wanted. Very clever, having the lights in the meeting room fail just before you unveiled your so-generous proposal to take the new Xenomorph off our hands. Is all that right, Mr. Traeten?" He nodded.

"Hostile 100 has been reproducing, at a great rate. It's been using its larva to guard its nest until there are enough adult creatures to serve as defenders. That's why Riley was attacked when he entered the tunnels." Walsh gave Traeten a look that demanded immediate confirmation. He nodded again.

"Now, Mr. Traeten. One last thing." Walsh leaned forward again. "Where. Are. They?"

Traeten sighed. "After ambushing a group of subterrestials shortly after its escape to serve as incubators for its first children, Hostile 100 made its way underground to build its nest, and has been there ever since. The Hive is in an old cathedral that sank underground in an earthquake several decades ago."

Walsh smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Traeten. We'll take it from here." She turned to leave, but Traeten called after her.

"Our people are still there. They have orders to fire on anyone who interferes with their observations. You won't get in the Hive easily."

Walsh stared at him. "Mr. Traeten, I'm certain the only reason your company's observers have survived this long is that Hostile 100 has been too busy reproducing and raiding the hospital to deal with them hanging around it's territory. But by now there will be at least two adult Xenomorphs at Hostile 100's command. I expect they'll be put to good use."

"Look, these guys are tough," Traeten protested. "They're equipped with the best Ravnon can provide them, and they've stayed out of sight this long. We _did_ lose contact with them just before you attacked, but it's probably just a downed transmitter. They're fine, and they'll give you trouble unless you do the smart thing and-"

The Professor's voice was cold as she swivelled on her heel and walked away. "No, Mr. Traeten, your people are already dead."


	23. Plans

"We're ending this tonight," Buffy said to her friends. It was the day after the battle at Ravnon's facility, and the Scoobies had gathered at Giles' home as soon as classes would permit. Buffy had just finished telling them about the answers the Initiative had 'extracted' from Traeten. "Hostile 100 has built its nest in the Master's old lair. Tonight, us and the Initiative are gonna clean 'em all out like a can of Raid. By the time this is over, they won't be hurting anyone ever again."

"Makes sense that it would be there," said Willow. "There's not that many other underground places big enough for Hostile 100 to back its exoskeletal butt into."

"The Master liked his places big," Buffy agreed. "And when I first fought the alien- okay, got ambushed by the alien- it was skulking around the mausoleum that leads into the Master's tunnels. The alien must have been scouting out real estate even before it went all jumbo-sized. The Initiative is going in there first, with a relatively small squad; Riley wants to keep lots of manoeuvring room down there. More guys would make it way too crowded in those tunnels and cause all kinds of problems. We're going to be their backup in case anything goes wrong."

By now, Giles was frowning and cleaning his glasses, and Xander didn't look happy either. "You heard all this from Riley?" asked Giles.

"Yep," said Buffy, "and I know what you're thinking. Why's Professor Walsh so eager to let us in on her super-secret organization's super-secret doings all of a sudden?"

"Yeah, and inviting us civvies along?" said Xander. "I got the impression that these Initiative guys don't work with anyone but these Initiative guys."

"Is the Initiative still trying to take the aliens alive?" Willow asked. "'Cause I'm starting to notice a connection between 'captive alien' and 'bad things happening'."

"I believe the words Riley used were 'total extermination'," said Buffy, "which is just fine by me. I, for one, have had more than enough of acid-spewing two-mouthed Martians, and am completely ready to go back to weekly supernatural apocalypses."

"I told you!" said Xander. "Right at the beginning of all this I told you. Good-old-fashioned slayable demons are much more preferable than ray-gun wielding terror from beyond the Solar System." He paused. "Though I may not have been right-on with the ray guns."

Willow smiled and shrugged. "The day is young."

Buffy smiled too. "I don't know why Walsh is letting me in on this, but we are in, and we should be. We were in on this at the beginning. Heck, I helped bring Hostile 100 into this world, brought its egg home. Least I can do is be there when it gets taken out."

"We'll all help you bring it down," Xander said. "I for one found out last night that Anya nagging me about putting myself in danger is kinda hot."

"Thanks for the support Xander- and for telling us all things we most definitely did not need to know- but I've had trouble taking these things down, and I'm the Slayer," she said. "I'm thinking that it might be best if you guys stay away from the combat on this one, maybe coordinate with Professor Walsh while me and Riley are underground."

"Walsh or killer aliens," mused Willow. "Tough call."

"Excuse me!" Xander said. "Quick poll of the Scooby constituency. Raise your hand if you've killed an adult alien here!" Xander raised his in the air. "No one else? No?"

"You had a machine gun." Buffy pointed out.

"You have superpowers!"

"Buffy, considering that you'll likely be encountering multiple full-grown Xenomorphs, I insist you take us with you," Giles said. "I believe that with the proper weaponry, equipment, and planning, we may be able to overcome the aliens' advantages." He paused. "Besides, I almost wound up being buggered by one of those… buggers. I'd dearly like to help finish them for good."

"Okay, you win," Buffy smiled again. "If you want to go toe-to-toe with killer aliens this badly, I guess I can't keep you away. We'll stop these things together. Honestly, I'll feel better with you guys with me than I would with a dozen Initiative guys with rocket launchers. Speaking of which: Giles, I believe there was talk of weapons?"

They began preparing for the end.

* * *

"Timing is crucial," Professor Walsh briskly told the assembled commandoes. "We have to assume that the five Ravnon employees have been taken alive and impregnated. If we don't move quickly, we'll have five new adult hostiles to deal with by tomorrow. So we must completely eradicate the infestation tonight. Your objectives are to rescue any people still alive down there, and eliminate each and every last Xenomorph. Riley?"

Riley took Walsh's place at the front of the squad. The seven men in front of him represented the Initiative's best… except for Graham, who hadn't fully recovered from the concussion he'd received during the attack on Ravnon's facility, and so was absent. Riley was sure he'd be sorely missed on this one, and was glad that Forrest had been well enough to be among the soldiers in front of him. This was a lot different from taking down a single hostile with a squad. This was a direct assault on the enemy's turf- an intelligent, vicious enemy that was worse than any subterrestial Riley had seen yet.

"Okay guys, I think we've all been waiting for this a long time." There were nods and murmurs of agreement in the group. The Initiative rarely got personal about things, but when it did, God help you. Riley knew that after being hurt and betrayed as a result of these aliens, the troops were in a mood for blood. Even if it was acidic.

"This could get nasty- we know the opposition is unpredictable. So we need to use our advantages and not let the hostiles get the drop on us." He nodded to Dr. Angleman, who put an overhead on the projector. A rough sketch of the tunnels surrounding the Master's cathedral appeared.

"We're going in through a tunnel located in one of Sunnydale's larger mausoleums. Resistance should be light until we hit the main chamber, the cathedral itself." Angleman put up another sketch, this one an overview of the Hive itself, and started talking.

"According to Traeten's information from Ravnon's observations of the Hive, the cathedral has been completely transformed by the Xenomorphs," Angleman said. "They are secreting some sort of resin, which hardens quickly. They've covered the walls with the substance, and use it to restrain their captives." He indicated the sketch. "If anyone is still alive down there, you'll probably find them hanging from the walls. Hostile 100 itself has become immobile- it's grown a sort of egg sac to aid in its reproduction. Both the creature and the sac are anchored to the floor by the resin. They're at the far end of the chamber, directly opposite where you'll enter. Hostile 100 is surrounded by dozens of eggs, and to its left is a pit where the larval Xenomorphs grow and feed after they've expelled themselves from their hosts."

"It should also be noted that the eggs in the Hive are much larger than the one which landed in the graveyard; about two feet high. Apparently, the eggs delivered via meteorite are of a different variety than those laid naturally."

Riley took over again. "Once we hit the main chamber, we're going to deploy into a crescent formation, with interlocking fields of fire. We can't use bullet weapons; we're expecting close-quarters combat down there, and using bullets would get us a lovely acid bath. So, everyone except Randall and Flagg get taser blasters. You two," he nodded at Randall and Flagg, the two largest soldiers in the squad, "get the heavy weapons. Flagg, flamethrower. Randall, minigun."

Awed and envious murmurs ran through the soldiers. Riley knew that Flagg, a six-foot weightlifting machine, and Randall, whose hobby was nearly crippling the unwary in arm-wrestling contests, were the best heavy-weapons specialists in the Initiative. He nodded at Angleman, who put another overhead on, this one showing drawings of the various Xenomorph types.

"Our first objective is to neutralize the two adult hostiles- the creature that attacked the hospital, and the creature it rescued, which we have to assume is full-grown by now. We can expect them to come at us hard and fast, so we'll try to slow them down with taser fire- _concentrated_ taser fire; these things can take a lot of voltage. We want to immobilize them enough for the heavies to finish them off at a safe distance. Once the adults are down, we turn the minigun on Hostile 100. Its got armour piercing bullets, and it can fire one thousand of them every minute. It'll turn Hostile 100 into green soup before we can blink. After it's gone, we just have to mop up the little guys, and make sure none of them slip past us. Any questions?" There were none. There never were.

Professor Walsh took over again. "This is a very dangerous mission, so we are planning for every contingency. A backup squad will be standing by at a different entrance to reinforce you in case anything goes wrong. The Slayer and her allies will also be on hand." Excepting Riley, no one looked very happy at this last bit. Walsh spoke firmly to her people. "The civilians were combating the aliens before us, and they've been of… significant help both with the Xenomorphs and Ravnon. They have earned a right to be present tonight."

Suddenly, Walsh broke into a rather uncharacteristic smile. "Finally, in light of the fact that you will be in a dangerous, unfamiliar environment, we are providing you with a guide. Mr. Traeten will be accompanying you into the Hive."

There was a pause. Then, starting with Forrest, the icy professionalism of the Initiative cracked, then shattered as the assembled soldiers all laughed out loud.

* * *

As the soldiers trooped off to gather their equipment and weapons, Professor Walsh quickly and unobtrusively made her way through the door separating the research area from the rest of the Initiative, and then through another door, this one made of heavy steel and emblazoned with the number 314.

Angleman was already there, pulling back the sheets on a pair of stainless steel tables lying side by side. "Well?" he asked.

Walsh knew he wanted to know why she was inviting the civilians into such an important, sensitive situation. "The Slayer is a reality we have to deal with Doctor, one way or another," she said. "I would prefer that it be a way that is helpful to us."

Angleman understood immediately. That was one of the things Walsh found most useful about him; he didn't need everything explained to him. "A test," he said as he handed her a sheaf of blueprints. "To see if she can be controlled, if she's willing to play with the team and hang back once in a while."

"Exactly," she said. "I don't think she's ever had to just be the backup before. Once we see how well she's willing to accept that, we'll have a better idea of how useful she can be." She looked through the blueprints, and liked what she saw. A lot. Though she'd never really pictured the project with a tail...

Dr. Angleman looked down at the two bodies on the table and pursed his lips. One was in perfect shape, aside from its demolished head. The still, cold form of the DemonAlien lay on the table, terrifying even in death. And beside it... a being that Professor Walsh refused to think of as a corpse, a being that she found beautiful despite the green, leathery skin, the chrome steel, the hideous stitching...

Adam.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Angleman. "These changes are extremely drastic. It would be like starting over from scratch. If we incorporate the Xenomorph into him, our schedule will be completely thrown off."

Walsh shook her head, still looking at the diagrams. Those exoskeleton patches would do wonders for defence... "I've worked on this for a long time, Doctor. I've given everything I have for this, for perfection." she said. "Uncompromising perfection. For _this_..." the Professor motioned greedily at the diagrams, "I can work much, much longer."

Dr. Angleman nodded his acknowledgement. "Any trouble getting Traeten to cooperate?"

She shook her head. "He's not stupid. He knows his only hope now is to make himself useful to us."

"And the Slayer? If things don't go well with her?"

Walsh shrugged, reached for her tools, keen mind already working on ways to deal with the potential threat. "Well... there are always contingencies..."

* * *

Traeten eyed the military fatigues he was wearing with distaste. Contrary to the impression he (quite purposely) gave, he wasn't vain at all about his appearance, although he did regret the loss of his suit. It was simply that Jacob Traeten was a man who had dedicated almost his entire life to making The Deal, and with it, the Big Score. And Traeten had found that, by and large, people were shallow. Customers- or victims- were simply more likely to trust and deal with well-dressed and attractive people. It was a subconscious part of human nature, they couldn't help it. It was for this same reason that Traeten had always tried to keep himself as fit as possible, an effort he was now very glad he'd made. He'd have to move fast tonight.

Another skill Traeten had perfected to make The Deal was what he thought of as 'selective communication', as well as 'guiding consumer reasoning'. Or, in plainer terms, lying and manipulating. He'd gotten a lot of practice at both during his time at the Initiative, repeatedly fooling Walsh, who was both smart and paranoid, not to mention all the soldiers, although those brainwashed sheep were almost too easy. Traeten was still amazed that Finn had bought the story of his father being a veteran... The only thing Traeten Sr. had done during Vietnam was help develop Agent Orange.

Despite her discovery of his previous duplicity, Walsh didn't seem to have suspected anything when he'd lied to her yet again. After he'd cracked during the interrogation, she was almost certainly convinced that Traeten was no longer a threat, that he had nothing left to lose by obeying the Initiative completely. So much the better.

The fact was that after giving in to Walsh and spilling everything, he was almost certainly a dead man. He knew that despite its losses, his company, and especially its legal associates, could still reach out and get anyone, anywhere, anytime, even if that anyone was protected by the Initiative. And Traeten didn't think anybody in the Initiative was going to go out of their way for _his_ safety. His only chance to survive this disaster was to get away from these people, get back to Los Angeles, and bring Ravnon something valuable enough to justify letting him stay alive; namely a live Xenomorph specimen. That was why he hadn't told Walsh about the demons.

Shortly before his plan had fallen apart, his company's facility attacked, himself captured and forced to confess to everything, Traeten had viewed some very interesting footage gathered by Ravnon's surveillance team. Four rather large demons had ventured into the tunnels which had been colonized by the Xenomorphs. The listening devices placed by the team had picked up their muttering something about 'getting even for Uglui and Grishna'; Doctor Frasier had theorized that they might have been referring to the demons killed by Hostile 100 following its escape.

At any rate, within moments of entering the central Hive the aliens had been attacked and efficiently subdued, both by the dog-born alien and by the ingenious defence Hostile 100 had placed at the entrances to its chamber... which Traeten had also neglected to tell Walsh about. Their 'children' would almost certainly be full-grown by now… and hungry.

Traeten knew he'd have to act quickly and intelligently to pull this off. The Initiative was expecting a weaker enemy than was actually there, which gave the Xenomorphs the advantage of surprise. Traeten was sure that, despite all the Initiative's planning, there would be a pitched and bloody battle, and during it, he would break away from the chaos, snatch one of the younger aliens, and escape through one of the other tunnel entrances. He knew that there were openings the Initiative knew nothing about, and weren't guarding. He and his alien prize would make a clean getaway, allowing him back into the good graces of his superiors... maybe even a promotion.

The fact that the commandoes would almost certainly die didn't enter Traeten's mind. For Jacob Traeten was a man who always had his eyes firmly on the prize.

* * *

Spike had never been so glad to be dead.

Whatever mystical factor it was that allowed vampires to heal better than humans was doing wonders for his chest. The edges of the wound were no longer as ragged, and with the blood and gore washed off, the hole in him left by the alien looked merely hideous, instead of the monument to hell it had been before.

More importantly, his strength was returning. Standing topless in his crypt, Spike sniffed the air, relishing the alertness of his senses, and flexed his muscles. Suddenly, his arm shot out with vicious force and speed, ripping the heart out of an imaginary Slayer. He held his hand in front of his face, and smiled as he curled it into a satisfyingly strong fist. Yep, the Big Bad was definitely on the rebound.

And he knew just what to do with his regained power. He was going to track down the Thing that had done this to him. Tonight, he'd go into the Master's tunnels. The bastard was almost certainly in there, with its fellow creepy-crawlies. He was going to find it. Find it and tear it apart.

Spike shot out his arm again, this time slamming it clean through an imaginary alien. He followed with a low punch, then leapt up, spun and kicked outwards. He laughed exultantly, with the joy that the power to kill brings, and with anticipation at the prospect of taking well-deserved and exquisitely bloody vengeance.

Tonight.

One way or another, it would all end tonight.


	24. Battle Royale, Part 1

The sun had just disappeared over the horizon, and the graveyard in front of the mausoleum had been transformed into a base for war. An Initiative Humvee was parked outside the mausoleum, packed with electronic equipment and serving as Professor Walsh's command post for this operation. The eight commandoes of the primary strike team were assembled around it, stretching, jogging in place, cleaning weapons, checking gear, reminding Traeten in no uncertain terms what would happen to him if he screwed anything up, and exchanging the quiet, tense talk of people about to go into battle. Black-clad Initiative security forces roamed the perimeter, making sure there were no witnesses-human or otherwise- to the operation. Amongst all this coiled military might, the four Scoobies shuffled about awkwardly, feeling greatly out of place.

It wasn't as though they were less equipped than the soldiers, Buffy reflected. Well, maybe Willow. The redhead was armed only with a bag of herbs and a number of small glass globes the size of golf balls in her purse. Buffy had gotten a look at the globes earlier; each of them was lit fierily from within by a tiny, fierce spark burning ferociously in their centres.

"Dragonflame," Willow had informed her. "They actually have nothing to do with dragons, but the shopkeeper tells me sales tend to be better when they give stuff cool names. All I know is that when they break, they burn. Really nifty."

"Does this have anything to do with that big patch of burned grass outside our building and the sirens I heard around lunch?" Buffy had asked. Willow had only blushed.

Willow was the only one who hadn't had Giles help pick out the gear. He had studied in detail which weapons would be most effective against the Xenomorphs, and had concluded that whatever they used, it would have to be powerful enough to defeat the alien armour while having a relatively long reach to prevent acid-related mishaps. To that end, Giles himself had opted for a large, vicious-looking crossbow firing heavy metal darts. Not only was he an expert shot with it, but the weapon was also equipped with a nasty steel spike at its end for close combat.

Xander had initially been thinking of something along the pike line, but the fact that they were going into narrow tunnels had ruled that out. Fortunately, Giles had found him a long-handled cudgel with a heavy steel knob at the end. In the Middle Ages the weapon had been meant to crush armour, and the man underneath. Giles hoped it would serve the same purpose against the aliens- doing fatal damage without piercing the exoskeleton and releasing acid. Xander thought the cudgel suited him just fine; about the size of a baseball bat, it had a satisfying weight when he swung it. "Hitting 'em on the head," he'd said, "Now that I can do."

Buffy was the most heavily loaded. She was carrying a large, powerful, two-handed sword, with an identical one strapped across her back. Although good for slashing, the sword was of a type made especially for stabbing- through armour, specifically. However, she wouldn't have many hits with it before acid reduced it to butter-knife usefulness, hence the backup. And of course, there was the obligatory stake in her pocket. All in all, she thought they hadn't been this well-armed since graduation.

"So what's the idea?" asked Xander. "How do we get out of this backup-squad gig and into the alien-killing gig?"

"It may be best to stick to the Initiative's plan, Xander." Giles said. "According to what Riley explained, their course of action seems surprisingly sound, and I see no reason to modify it. We don't know much about these soldiers, and we certainly won't find out anything more by unnecessarily aggravating them."

"I hate to say it, but he's right Xander." Buffy mentally squashed the Slayer within her, who was loudly demanding battle, as she said this. "I still want to wipe these things out but..."

"Not if it means getting Riley's folks mad at you?" Willow teased.

"Not if the best way to do it is to hang back and play as a team," Buffy countered. "Our job here is to get rid of the aliens, and to do that we have to work together. Any issues we have with the secret-army guys can wait until afterwards."

There was a flurry of activity nearby. The commandoes were getting into formation- Riley in the lead, the two-heavy weapons troopers immediately behind him, Forrest in the middle, and Traeten in the rear, closely surrounded by the other four soldiers of the squad. Lights shone in the night as the flashlights attached to their weapons were activated, projecting cones of illumination towards the mausoleum. The shadows cast made it look even more ominous than usual. There was a soft _fwoosh_ as a small blue flame appeared at the tip of Flagg's flamethrower.

Giles took a breath. "It's starting."

Riley shot a smile towards Buffy, and then the nine men filed into the mausoleum. There was a grinding noise as the gate to the sewers was opened, and then silence. The operation had begun.

"We're inside," Professor Walsh heard as she listened attentively in the Humvee. She heard the snap of a flare being ignited, and Riley spoke again. "First breadcrumb laid. Will contact you again once we've proceeded down to the next level. Out." The plan called for the team to leave a trail of flares behind them as they descended, so they could find their way back out if they needed to leave in a hurry. Walsh was leaving nothing to chance here, both out of common sense and respect for the capabilities of the Xenomorphs, and out of a desire to avenge her organization's previous failings with this creature, and also partly to impress the Slayer with the power of the Initiative. So far, it looked like it was paying off. Everything was going according to plan.

Her hand stayed on the switch for the backup squad's radio channel anyway.

The tunnels were dark, dusty, tight, and smelled faintly of things best left unimagined. The floor sloped downwards as Jacob Traeten allowed himself to be herded by the soldiers surrounding him. The closeness of their bodies was somewhat comforting, but Traeten was under no illusions that they were there for his protection. He made no effort to hide the fear on his face; the soldiers would be less likely to suspect him of anything if they thought he was terrified. Which he was.

Right now his biggest worry, besides painful death at the claws of the creatures who had haunted his nightmares since Mongolia, was that Agent Finn would decide they didn't need him as a guide and send him back. The maps the Initiative was using seemed to be serving them fine, and Riley had only had to ask Traeten for confirmation of their direction twice.

They stopped for a moment to lay another 'breadcrumb', then continued on, always heading down and deeper. Traeten felt the air grow clammier around him and shivered slightly. They were getting closer. It wouldn't be long now.

Riley shined his flashlight on the map for the fifth time in as many minutes. A wrong turn down here would be disastrous. So far, the map was working well, but they might still need Traeten, and it would be too much of a hassle to send him back now.

In a tiny alcove to the right was a dusty stairwell. Riley pointed at it wordlessly and the squad moved in on it. Riley went first, taking one stair at a time, crouching to make sure there was nothing waiting for him at the bottom. Something _squished_ under his boot. Riley looked down at it and called Traeten.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked. The thing he'd stepped on was a smear of some clear, sticky, stringy substance stuck all over the staircase. Traeten nodded.

"It's the resin we've seen the Xenomorphs building with," he said. "Why's there a patch of it here? The main Hive is still a level away."

"Maybe they're marking territory," Forrest said.

Traeten shook his head. "They wouldn't advertise their presence that way. I think this is the first stage of an expansion of the Hive."

"Getting ambitious." Riley hefted his taser blaster and motioned the squad back into formation. "Their mistake." He contacted Walsh.

"Acknowledged. Lay the breadcrumb and proceed to the final checkpoint. Out." Walsh spoke as though she didn't know that the civilians were clustered outside the Humvee, listening in. There was no immediate harm being done, and the more the Slayer saw of a successful operation, the more likely she'd be to come aboard. There was only one more descent to make before the team was on the same level as the sunken cathedral...

Underground, the soldiers were about to begin that descent. The ladder was rusty, dusty, and old, and stuck starkly out of a small hole showing nothing but darkness underneath. But when Riley shone his light at it, he saw that it led down to the floor of the next tunnel. He knew the target was now only a few dozen metres away.

Dropping to his stomach on the filthy floor, Riley lowered his torso over the edge of the hole and dangled upside down. Ignoring the blood rushing to his head, he swept the area with his weapon, making sure nothing awaited whoever descended the ladder. Seeing nothing but concrete walls and the occasional patch of alien slime, he motioned for Forrest to lead the way down, and kept him covered as the second-in-command scrambled down the ladder and hit the ground with his taser ready. Riley joined him an instant later, and the two kept the ladder secured, Forrest facing backwards, Riley facing towards the cathedral, as the rest of the team came down. Another flare was laid, and they fell back into formation. The entire manoeuvre had taken less than a minute, and they were now practically on the aliens' doorstep. Riley spared a moment to wonder why they hadn't met any opposition yet, then called the Humvee again. "Commencing attack," Riley said. "Will remain in continuous contact from now on. Over."

"Understood. Good luck," came the reply. "Remember: no survivors. Over."

Riley put the radio back in his belt, leaving it switched on, and led the team forward. He noticed that it was getting warmer, more humid. Everything ahead of them that was not lit by a flashlight was completely black and invisible. There was total and utter silence, not a sound emerging from the oppressive darkness ahead of them. _They're waiting for us,_ thought Riley.

As the team advanced, the lights began to show the tunnel ahead narrowing into a passageway... that seemed to be sculpted of black bone. The smooth, shiny, hard substance was formed into a bizarre array of disgustingly organic patterns reminiscent of ribs, spines, muscle and viscera. Riley turned to Traeten. "_This_ is what they've been building?"

Traeten nodded, pale. "This is the Hive."

Riley nodded. "Okay. We don't need you any more. Just go back to the ladder, stay there and wait for us, no matter what happens." Traeten promptly dropped out of the formation, looking grateful. But, as the squad moved on into the passageway, he followed behind them quietly, unseen.

The air became even warmer as they entered the tunnel, and then halted. Beyond the end of the passageway was the sunken cathedral which had been the prison of the Master and was now the foothold of the Xenomorphs on Earth, yet all they could see of it was more yawning blackness, although more of the alien structural formations could be glimpsed at the edge of the beams of their flashlights. Still no sounds, not one. "Jesus Christ," muttered the medic, Sasaki, as he gazed at a piece of wall disturbingly similar to an intestine.

"Keep it together people," Riley said. "We're the best, we've got a job to do, and we aren't gonna get psyched by the bad guys' interior decor. Give me a flare, and get ready."

The flare sparked, hissed, and sailed into the blackness, casting red light in an all-too-small circle within the darkness of the Hive, revealing nothing but shadows and more walls plastered with resin-formed nightmares. But now, a sound could be heard. A soft snarl came from directly opposite where the squad was standing. Faintly lit by the flare, at the far edge of the chamber, the massive silhouette of Hostile 100 could be dimly seen. The commandoes didn't know it, but in a cosmic coincidence the creature had established itself in the exact same place The Master had once used to harangue his followers from. The alien appeared to be placed higher than the rest of the cathedral, and some sort of large structure was around it, but no details could be discerned in the gloom.

"Okay, stick to the plan," Riley said. "Move out. Randall, get that minigun ready. Let's do this." Shifting into the semicircle prescribed by the plan, they advanced cautiously into the Hive.

For a long time- a very long time- it had tumbled through the cold, infinite, absolute void of space, waiting to be born. From the moment it emerged from its egg and began seeking a host, its driving purpose had been to survive, to kill, to reproduce and populate this world with its kind. Despite all its enemies, despite all the forces arrayed against it, the creature known to humanity as Hostile 100 had succeeded at all these things. It had beaten and eluded those hunting it, and established a home, an outpost of its kind on this world, and filled it with its children. And during the process of birth, growth, hunting, fighting, escaping and building, it had learned. Naturally gifted like all its kind with an unusual amount of cunning, its mental powers were now at their peak, and it had used them to prepare an extraordinary and merciless reception for anything that wandered into its lair. And now, as clumsy, soft fragile creatures who advertised their approach from far away through smell and vibration came to invade its home, the Queen silently ordered its children to fulfill their purpose in life.

Kill.

Riley's first and only warning came as he, Randall, Flagg, and Forrest emerged from the tunnel. Behind him there was a sudden gasp, and a pair of soft wet squelching sounds. Turning, he saw that with what he'd thought was a rocky overhang above the tunnel was actually two Xenomorph eggs, shifting, expanding, and opening. Behind them, he glimpsed Sasaki sliding lifelessly and silently to the ground, impaled by a Xenomorph tail which seemed to have grown right out of the tunnel ceiling. Screams and snarls exploded all around him as he raised his weapon and began to shout a warning- too late. The egg nearest to him seemed to simply explode, expelling a yellow slimy mass of horror onto his face. Riley didn't even have time to cry out before he felt the disgusting moistness plaster itself to his features like a mask as he fell backwards. His head struck the ground, rendering him mercifully unconscious for what followed.

Walsh heard a flurry of screams, curses, screeches, and weapons fire erupt over the radio. "Agent Finn? What's going on?" she demanded. No answer. "Riley?" She'd expected a tough fight, but what she was hearing sounded like chaos. "_Riley!_" Suddenly a few voices broke through the cacophony.

"What the f-"

"Finn's down! Finn's down!"

"OH GOD! Get it off! Get it offa meeee-"

"To the right! Enemy on the right! FIRE!"

"They're coming out the walls! THEY'RE COMING OUT THE GODDAMN WALLS!"

"Riley! Forrest! ANYONE! Report!" Walsh was on the verge of hysteria even before the radio went dead. Moving swiftly into crisis-management mode, she immediately contacted the backup squad. "The mission is in serious jeopardy. Situation is unknown. Get in there _now!_" she ordered. "Get in there and get our people out of there!" She then turned to the civilians…

Who were already gone.

As Riley went down, Jacob Traeten made his move. Summoning what little remained of his nerve, he dashed into the tunnel and past the surprised commandoes, who had other things on their minds. The Hive was a war zone. Taser blasts arced across the room, illuminating charging aliens scurrying along the floor, walls, and ceiling as the soldiers scrambled for their lives. Traeten did his best to ignore the battle as he moved to the right side of the chamber, hugging the wall of the Hive as tightly as possible, disregarding the loathsome feel of the dried resin. He tried to stay at the edge of the chaos as, alone and unarmed, he inched deeper into the alien nest.

The angry whir of the minigun sounded to his left, and he turned his head to see a Xenomorph blow apart from the shoulders up. Traeten caught only a glimpse of the rest of the fight, a fleeting impression of desperate, terrified, screaming men clustered around the tunnel entrance with multiple aliens falling upon them, but then something crushed the flare and the Hive was plunged back into terrifying blackness, except for the flashlights of the few soldiers still standing. Deprived of light and direction, all Traeten could do was cling to the foul wall and try to maintain bladder control.

Suddenly, in the centre of the room a bright tongue of flame jetted out from the darkness, and Traeten saw a flaming, writhing alien fall to the ground, courtesy of whoever was using the flamethrower. In the momentary illumination, he could see a man-shaped shadow broke away from the melee, another shadow which could not possibly be human in hot pursuit. With horror Traeten realized that the soldier was leading the alien right to him. He ran for it, hearing futile gunshots behind him. Echoing throughout the Hive he heard screams of pain, a hiss, a hideous crunching noise, and then silence.

Dead silence.

_Oh God. They're all dead._ Traeten stopped running, crouched against the wall, and tried to not even breathe. It wasn't supposed to be like this… the soldiers weren't supposed to die this quickly! Traeten realized that he was all alone, in the dark, surrounded by some of the most horrific creatures ever imagined, and that in spite of all his deception, in spite of all his scheming, in spite of all his clever planning, things had gone horribly wrong, and he was about to die.

"Professor Walsh? This is Harmel. The tunnel leading to the objective is completely blocked, looks like a cave-in from recent tremors. We can't proceed any farther this way..."

"_Then find another way!_" Walsh hissed at the leader of the backup squad. In her gut, she knew that they wouldn't get there fast enough. Which meant that it was all up to the civilians now...

Buffy dashed through the tunnels as fast as she could, ignoring her friends' protests and their panting as they tried to keep up with Slayer speed. Only one thing kept running through her mind: "Finn's down! Finn's down!"

_Riley._


	25. Battle Royale, Part 2

"Buffy, wait up!" called Xander, but it was too late. The Slayer had already vanished down the ladder leading to the level of the Hive. All around them, the tunnels continued to echo with gunfire and screams.

Putting on a burst of speed, Giles pulled ahead of the other Scoobies and peered down the ladder, praying that Buffy hadn't charged into the Hive alone to rescue her boyfriend. He was relieved to see a visibly impatient Buffy pausing at the bottom of the ladder, giving her winded friends time to scramble down after her. Less reassuring was the fact that the tunnels had suddenly gone completely, ominously silent.

"Guys? Are you ready for this? We gotta go now," whispered Buffy.

"As ready as we're going to get," Willow whispered back. None of them were willing to disturb the silent blackness ahead of them… and the things in the blackness.

Buffy nodded. "Keep an eye out for Riley," she said, and then took the lead. Xander shone a flashlight ahead as they moved forward towards the entrance of the Hive. Suddenly, there was a gunshot and an alien shriek ahead. Someone was still alive- and fighting. "Will, get that spell ready!" Buffy hissed.

They entered the tunnel, too tense to take more than a fleeting glance at the unholy architecture around them, or the still-fresh bodies of Initiative soldiers they were stepping over. Ahead, there was another gunshot, and in the brief flash of light they caught a glimpse of an alien recoiling from an impact. There was another snarl, and then everything was silent again. The Scoobies exchanged a look, then continued advancing, with Giles holding his crossbow ready.

"Hey, there's a live one here!" said Xander. Slouched against the wall of the tunnel, just on the threshold of the Hive proper, was an unconscious, ashen-faced young man in commando uniform. No obvious wound could be seen on him, but when Xander panned the flashlight down, towards his wrist...

"Damn," he said softly. The flesh of the soldier's wrist had been eaten away by acid to the point that ghastly glimpses of white bone glinted in the light. A pistol was clutched in his other hand, and a dead facehugger lay at his feet.

"He shot it off rather than let it impregnate him," said Giles quietly, as he glanced into the main chamber. Portions of the Hive were faintly lit by the lights of fallen soldiers, as well as the pilot light of the flamethrower. Some of the lights shone red, tinted by blood which had flowed over their lenses. Faint sounds could be heard within- movement of many large things.

"Guys? Enough sightseeing. They're getting ready to make a move, and I think we've seen how they treat houseguests." Buffy reminded her friends that they were still surrounded by otherworldly evil. "Will, let's have some light."

Willow's pale hand curled around the bag of herbs around her neck, and she bowed her head while muttering ancient words of power. Suddenly her head shot up, and a ball of light exploded into being at the ceiling of the cathedral. It was beautiful- white, liquid luminescence, shimmering and changing constantly, casting shifting shadows throughout the Hive. Shrieks accompanied its creation as Xenomorphs who'd been hiding in the shadows suddenly found themselves exposed. Buffy saw a dark, fleeting shape- the creature from the hospital- detach itself from the ceiling and bolt for a darker corner. But most of her and the Scoobies' attention was focused elsewhere. The Hive was revealed in its entirety, and it was _not_ a pretty sight.

Hostile 100 roared a challenge at the new intruders from across the cathedral. The monstrous creature was a loathsome sight. It was cemented to the floor by thick strands of the alien resin, with spikes rising up behind it, forming a sort of demented throne. But that was just a sideshow to the blasphemy that was attached to it. Sprouting from the Queen's posterior was a slimy, translucent tube that led upwards and to the Queen's left to a massive, bulging egg sac of yellowish colour. The pulsating thing was suspended in the air by strings and bars of the resin, and dim shapes of growing eggs could be seen within it. Even as they watched an egg slithered forth from a flexible appendage sprouting from the underside of the sac, joining dozens of others clustered about Hostile 100's throne. On the right side of the room, near the eggs, was the pit where the Master had used to bathe in blood. Squeals were coming from it.

The floor between the tunnel and the throne was dotted with corpses. The Initiative's elite strike team lay dead and bleeding, mangled and slain without mercy at the claws of the aliens. A thin haze hung in the air, from gunsmoke and alien acid; the latter came from two alien bodies lying amongst the humans. The commandoes had not sold their lives cheaply.

A live alien with unusually large, daggerlike back spines was standing, or trying to, nearby- it had been wounded twice by Forrest, who was laying against the right wall of the chamber, eyes glazed, pistol still in hand, alien towering over him, preparing to finish him. The creature green blood running down its shell, scarring and pitting the ground wherever it touched it. One of its spines had been blown clean off by Forrest's shooting, and blood could be seen oozing from its leg as well. Giles levelled his crossbow at it, but it fled back into the shadows before he could loose a shot.

"Oh my God," breathed Buffy. Her eyes had been scanning the chamber for Riley, but her view had been blocked by the huge alien standing in front of him. This creature's demonic origins were obvious: it was a good foot taller than the ordinary Xenomorph, and its thick, rippling black shell had a cobalt-blue tint that gave it a faintly metallic appearance. Its tail was long, its claws curved and wicked, a bumpy ridge ran down the middle of its smooth head, and it was in the process of webbing Riley Finn to the wall with gobs of secreted resin. But it wasn't the sight of her boyfriend in the clutches of an alien nightmare being cocooned like a fly in a spiderweb that had prompted the Slayer's exclamation.

It was the obscene, throbbing creature wrapped tightly around his face. "Riley…" she whispered.

The Scoobies were shocked, and without thinking the four stepped out of the tunnel and into the chamber, weapons ready. "Stay together, and be ready for anything," Giles said. Behind them, part of the 'ceiling' of the tunnel started to move.

Suddenly, Xander's attention was drawn away from Riley. "What the hell is he doing?" he asked. Then he yelled across the chamber: "Hey! Traeten! The company staff lounge is the other way! Haven't you had enough of your alien pals yet?"

Traeten ignored the kid's immature braying. He had more important things on his mind. Though he had to admit, the arrival of the civilians had almost certainly saved his life. They'd provided much-needed light and distracted the Xenomorphs long enough for him to dash over to the breeding pit. The breeding pit...

Peering in, the question of whether any Ravnon employees had survived the attempt to observe the Hive was answered. Five large alien larvae poked their heads up like a brood of revolting birds and hissed at him. Traeten's stomach reeled as he beheld the wormlike creatures, half burrowed into what remained of his employees. The pit was half-filled with gore, blood, torn flesh, and ripped clothing from five men. The larvae must have been feeding on their 'parents' for a while, a freakishly dispassionate part of Traeten's mind noted. You couldn't even tell where the bits of one corpse ended and the next began...

Mastering himself, he took off his jacket. All he had to do was snag one of the larva, wrap it in the jacket, and hold on to it while he got the hell out of this place. Got the hell out, and never came back.

"That bloody fool." Giles' face was tight with rage and disbelief. "He still thinks he can get one of them alive!" Beside him, Buffy scanned the room anxiously. What were the aliens waiting for? The Initiative had been attacked instantly, but the Scoobies were standing in the inner sanctum of the Xenomorphs, completely unopposed. Hostile 100 was just sitting there, as thought waiting for something. The large alien was busy webbing Riley, and the wounded creature was still retreating in that direction. But where was the dog-thing? And where had the extra aliens come from? How many were there?

Even as Buffy analyzed the situation, the thing Hostile 100 was waiting for lowered itself to the ground behind her. One of its clawed feet came down on its victim, Sasaki. Silently, soundlessly, it began creeping towards the humans.

Traeten slowly edged forward, holding the jacket tightly. An earsplitting bellow sounded beside him. Looking up, he saw Hostile 100 thrashing furiously as it realized that this intruding creature intended to abduct one of its children. But, anchored to its throne and connected to its egg sac, the Queen was immobile and helpless, and all its children seemed to be busy stalking those stupid kids. Traeten smirked at it. "Too bad," he said.

Suddenly Hostile 100's head jerked, and something wet struck Traeten's face, right in the eyes. A hideous burning pain lanced into his eyeballs, and his face felt like it was melting right off his skull.

Spit... the thing had spit on him!

The pain overwhelmed him. Shrieking, Traeten toppled headfirst into the pit.

Buffy saw Traeten fall, and decided _screw this_. Right now they were just waiting in the middle of this hellhole for the aliens to attack while more people died. It was time to take shake off their terror and take charge. "Get the wounded together, see if you can help Traeten," she ordered. "I'm going for Riley."

Behind them, the creature that had lain in wait clinging to the ceiling crouched for a jump that would end with it on top of the red-furred intruder, claws buried in soft flesh. In the split second before it leapt, a strong arm reached out of the darkness behind it and coiled around its neck. The alien was hauled backwards into the tunnel as soundlessly as it had approached.

Traeten's landing was cushioned by something soft and wet, and his stomach lurched as he realized that he was laying in the viscera of his employees. He felt a cold weight skitter over his back, another on his arms, and realized the larvae were crawling over him... he could feel their saliva on his skin. He screamed again, forgetting the agony in his eyes as he remembered what Dr. Angleman had said about the breeding pit- this was where the larvae grew _and fed..._

He panicked, rolling around frantically, heedless of the blood he was smearing all over himself as he wallowed around in what remained of human beings. He forced his eyes to open, ignoring the still-horrific pain. There was nothing but blackness.

He was blind.

He screamed, and screamed again as the first pair of razor-sharp teeth sank into his flesh. Tiny, loathsome feet scurried over him as the larvae swarmed onto his body and bit and bit. Feeling his own warm blood beginning to flow and mix with the contents of the pit, Traeten screamed again, only to have it cut off as a pair of teeth tore into his throat. His mind screamed instead: _It isn't fair, this wasn't the plan, can't I make a deal?_ His only answer was more pain, and the hissing of the creatures he had found so amazing.

If it wasn't for Traeten's screams, Xander might have heard the sounds of a struggle coming from further back in the tunnel as he dashed for the unconscious soldier. He slung the man's uninjured arm across his shoulders and, being careful not to touch the disfigured wrist, hurried back to Giles and Willow, who were already moving towards Forrest while Buffy split left, towards Riley.

The alien in the tunnel had almost been dragged all the way back into the main corridor when it finally halted itself, digging into the floor with its hind legs and thrashing furiously. Between its tail and the spines on its back it soon dislodged its attacker's grip, and whirled around to face it.

"Well, well Junior, lookit you. All grown up," Spike smirked at his 'son'. "Warms my heart it does to see you a big boy. Too bad for you busting out of a bloke's chest leaves a pretty memorable scen-"

'Junior' was interested neither in its paternity or in the sounds coming from this somewhat familiar yellow-furred prey. It lunged.

Buffy sprinted across the floor, lethally intent on reaching Riley. The wounded alien moved to intercept her, still swift and dangerous even with two bullets in it. Buffy didn't care. Without breaking stride she stabbed her sword sideways as she passed the creature. The sword's point _crunched_ through the alien armour, stabbing deep into its abdomen. Acid spurted, but failed to touch Buffy as she kept running, leaving the sword embedded in her victim and drawing her backup. The creature shrieked and collapsed on its back, more green blood spilling as it twitched in its death throes.

Across the room, Xander, Giles and Willow headed for Forrest, Xander lugging the unconscious commando while Giles kept his crossbow ready, eyes scanning the ceiling. Traeten's screams had mercifully ceased, and from the pit came only the sounds of chewing.

Out of the darkness the dog-alien dropped to the floor on Giles' left and charged, snarling. He whirled and fired his crossbow, but even as he did he knew he would hit nothing, the creature was coming too fast. He hurled himself to the ground, and the alien flitted over him, ruffling his jacket with the wind of its passage.

The large alien, sensing Buffy's approach, gracefully detached itself from the wall it was binding Riley to and dropped to the ground to face her. It was much bigger than her, thickly armoured, a perfect killing machine, but she didn't even notice. Not only had she gotten used to facing larger foes, but her boyfriend's life was at stake, and she had no time to feel intimidated. The Slayer waded straight in.

Her advance was cut brutally short. The creature whirled about with amazing speed and its long tail slammed into her ribs. Gasping as the breath left her, Buffy was thrown into the air and crashed down hard on the ground. Scrambling to her feet, she raised her sword.

Rolling onto his back, Giles saw the four-legged monster turn around for another pass, but before it could attack a bullet smacked into the ground in front of it. The alien broke off its attack and darted back into the shadows. Xander fired once more with the pistol he'd taken from the soldier, but missed.

"Good thinking Xander," Giles said as he hastily reloaded his crossbow.

"I have my moments." Xander swept the room with the pistol as they reached Forrest and clustered protectively around him. Forrest was unconscious too, bleeding from a wound in his side. The wound was shallow, but it had been caused by the venomous tail of an alien, and the commando was now paralyzed. Giles became aware of a shift in the light and looked at Willow. The clever witch had been thinking quickly; motioning her arms, she was guiding her light spell around the room, using it as a magical searchlight to find the dog-thing.

Her face was furrowed in concentration. "I can't find it..." she said.

"Keep trying," Giles said. "Even if you can't spot it, you might discourage it from another attack." He yelled across the room, "Buffy, how are you doing?"

"Not a good time for evaluations Giles," grunted Buffy as she ducked underneath the swings of the alien. The creature's large hands kept lashing out towards her head with more than enough force to take it clean off. It gained momentum, swinging faster and faster, but at the same time left itself open to a counterattack. The Slayer took the opportunity at once, swinging her sword at the alien's shoulder. It connected solidly, sending a shock up her arms. A crack appeared in the creature's shell and a few green drops oozed out. Nothing more.

_Great,_ Buffy thought. _The thing's about as thin-skinned as Cordelia. And even if I beat it, I'll have to do something about Hostile 100, and even then, I can't do anything about Ril-_

She stopped the thought before it came. Thinking about what was happening inside her boyfriend's chest right now would lead only to horror, distraction and death. Buffy settled for thinking that things couldn't get any worse.

Then... some idiot turned out the lights.

While Xander and Giles tended to the two surviving soldiers, Willow peered into the shadows of the Hive, trying to pick out the outline of the alien from the resin formations on the walls and ceiling. The stuff was natural camouflauge for the Xenomorphs, and she could be looking right at the dog-creature and not seeing it. She willed the illumination spell from side to side, changing the angles of the light...

There was a faint scuttling directly above her. Willow looked up and screamed as the alien dropped straight down onto her. Her legs quite sensibly gave out from under her and she fell to the ground, so that instead of having the full weight of the creature come down on top of her head it wound up pinning her, warm saliva dripping on her face. As the alien tightened its hold on her shoulders one of its claws sliced through the necklace holding the bag of herbs. It slid off her body, and the spell, deprived of the source of its power, promptly winked out of existence. Willow was plunged into darkness as the alien hissed above her. She screamed again.

Xander caught a glimpse of what was happening to Willow a second before the globe of light disappeared. The blackness closed around him, choking in its absoluteness, terrifying and cold. He didn't let that that stop him from springing forward, swinging the cudgel as hard as he could. He clocked the Xenomorph cleanly on the side of the head, and it ran off again with a snarl.

"Are you all right?" He asked Willow. She coughed and might've nodded, it was too dark to see.

"Get the spell back!" Shouted Giles. Willow fumbled for the herb pouch.

Spike dodged and weaved as 'Junior' did its best to insert its claws, tail, and teeth into various organs. Thinking back, he realized it had been bleedin' stupid to come down here without a weapon. Hell, it had been bleedin' stupid coming down here at all when the place had been crawling with soldiers and reeking of Slayer.

The creature which had used him as a womb tried to open his chest a second time, slicing its claws downwards at him with vicious force. With equal viciousness Spike caught the arm in one hand and kicked the thing in the gut as hard as he could. It wheezed and staggered backwards, but quickly recovered. Spike followed up with a slamming right hook.

"Arrgh!" he yelled as he skinned his knuckles on the unyielding exoskeleton. _Definitely should've brought a weapon,_ he thought. Taking advantage of his pain, the alien tackled him to the ground. Spike stared down its gullet as both its mouths opened wide over his face.

Fighting a large, vicious, armoured extraterrestial was bad enough. But in the _dark..._ Sometimes Buffy the Vampire Slayer hated her job.

Something hit her, hard, and she hit the ground, also hard. The alien seemed to be all around her; hissing, swiping, snarling. It was a miracle she still had her sword in her hands and her hands on her arms, to say nothing of the intactness of her other limbs. What had happened to Willow? Where'd the light go?

Suddenly there was a powerful flash as Willow shouted a word of command and the ball of light was reborn. Just in time too, since it illuminated the alien right in front of her, a hand reaching for her face. Reacting with blinding speed she struck at the hand with the flat of her sword, steel smacking into shell. Something cracked, the alien shrieked, and Buffy saw two of its fingers hanging limp.

The light saved Giles' life as well. The moment it burst back into existence, he spotted the DogAlien charging straight at him like a monster out of a nightmare. Drool flew from its jaws as it bore down on him with amazing speed. No time to dodge- Giles whipped the crossbow to his shoulder, sighted, and fired.

The bolt flew straight and true- into the alien's mouth and down its throat, piercing its innards. The creature fell, momentum carrying it rolling and kicking across the floor. By the time it came to a rest at Giles' feet, it was stone dead, a thin stream of blood and steam leaking from its mouth.

"Wow Giles, I a--" The rest of Xander's wit was lost to the world forever, drowned out by an terrifying screech from the Queen, enraged that one of its children had fallen.

'Junior's second mouth slammed down at Spike with skull-crushing force. He wrenched his head to the left, barely avoiding it. The alien hissed, and the wretched tube began slithering back up for another try, but never made it. Spike seized the 'tongue' in an iron grip, disregarding the revolting, slimy feel of the thing. The creature made furious gagging noises and struck back, slashing at Spike's legs with its clawed feet. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the pain he scrambled to his feet, keeping a tight hold on the tongue.

The alien ignored the pain as well, and its tail coiled around Spike's leg and pulled. He fell backward against the wall, regained his balance, then kicked 'Junior' in the stomach. He pushed the thing away with his foot and yanked hard on the tube at the same time. Something snapped deep within the alien's throat and its second mouth was wrenched out unnaturally far. Spike felt it go limp in his grip, and grinned the grin he'd given Slayers before killing them.

"Got a soft spot for your Dad after all, eh Junior? Now, I never got to give you that first lesson of life..." With that, he ripped the tongue right out of the alien's head in one smooth motion.

'Junior' did not go easily. Even with its own blood running down its throat, it thrashed and hissed and struggled with every ounce of strength it had. But really, it was all over but the dying, and by the time Spike was done venting his rage at the thing which had violated him, it was barely recognizable.

In the chamber, Hostile 100 bellowed again. Spike ignored it and turned away, determined to make his way back to the crypt without any further excitement tonight. He had his revenge, and as far as he was concerned that left him officially through with these soddin' aliens. Ordinarily he'd stick around and see whether they could kill off any of the Slayerettes, but that was how he'd gotten into this mess in the first place-

_Oh bloody Hell._ Spike flashed back to what 'Junior' had been about to do when he grabbed it, and realized he just might have saved one of the Scoobies' lives. Stomach churning, he turned and ran for the surface. He needed _Passions_ and a drink, quick.

The alien rose its tail for a strike and Buffy hacked it off. The stinger dropped to the ground, and acid splattered Buffy's sword and coat. Gasping as her coat started to melt, the Slayer ripped it off with one hand. The other hand dragged her sword on the dusty floor, wiping off most of the acid. The beautiful blade was becoming badly pitted and corroded, but still should be good for at least one more blow…

She faced the alien again. "I liked that coat! That was a good coat!"

"Buffy, keep it occupied!" Shouted Giles as he aimed his crossbow. "I have a shot!"

Her response was unexpected. "Oh, crap!" She was looking behind Giles, at Hostile 100. He turned and saw.

The dozens of eggs in front of the Queen were bubbling, bulging, expanding. At some unspoken, incomprehensible command from their creator, they were hatching. Already a few yellow legs could be seen poking out of some.

Buffy took a breath, but whatever she was about to say was cut off as the alien tackled her from behind. Willow reacted instead. Reaching into her bag, she brought out a few balls of dragonflame and hurled them at the eggs. Then, concentrating mentally, she made them disperse in the air. The glass balls scattered amongst the eggs and exploded like Molotov cocktails. Facehuggers and eggs alike burst into flame, and a foul stench filled the room. Steam hissed as the fluids within the eggs boiled.

"Look out!" Giles spotted a few creatures escaping the inferno- two making a beeline for him. He shot one, the arrow piercing it neatly in the middle, but the other one leapt on his leg and scrambled up like an enormous spider towards his face. Giles had time to think _Dear Lord, not again_ and then it was upon him.

Another facehugger skittered towards Willow with extraordinary speed. She screamed as it jumped and began climbing her, the touch of each leg revolting, like having the world's biggest centipede crawling on her. Before it could reach her head Xander knocked it to the ground with the cudgel and finished it with a vicious crushing blow, only to have another creature latch onto his legs.

Buffy wriggled away from the big alien, which was trying to give her a very pointy bear-hug. She jumped, spun, and struck true as the alien lunged after her. The creature's own momentum conspired with the force of Buffy's thrust to cause the sword to penetrate deep into the alien's throat. She let go of the sword and left it dissolving there as the Xenomorph backed off, retching acid.

Meanwhile, Xander stomped on the facehugger as hard as he could, breaking its tail. It fell away from him on its back, wriggling like an upended ant. Down came the cudgel, and that was that.

Giles made gagging noises as the yellow horror's tail coiled around his neck. Its legs waved furiously, tickling his face, while the nauseatingly soft, slimy tube probed for his mouth. Drawing back one hand, he punched the thing in its soft underside. Its grip weakened, and he flung it to the floor, snatched up his crossbow, and skewered it with the sharp point on the weapon's end.

"I think... that's the last of them," he panted.

"This one's down too," Buffy said as her foe collapsed to the ground. "We-"

The Queen let loose a roar of rage that vibrated the humans' bones. It's children were almost all dead! The offspring it had worked so hard to raise and cultivate and protect had been decimated, and the sanctity of its home was no more. There would be blood and death for this, for this entire planet, a cataract of rending and slashing and devouring, especially for its yellow-furred enemy who had done so much harm.

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to someone else." Buffy was not impressed. "I'm going to get Riley."

"Bad idea," said Willow. "It can spit. That's how it got Traeten." As if to punctuate her, a glob of acid spattered at their feet. Hostile 100 roared again as the Scoobies backed up.

"We gotta take this thing down," Xander said. He eyed the enormous alien dubiously. "Uh, Giles? Suggestions?"

"The egg sac," he responded. "That's the only soft spot. Throw everything we've got at the sac!"

"Gotcha. Hitting the giant alien in the reproductive sack, coming u- My life is way too weird," Xander cut himself off.

Giles gave him a look, then loaded his crossbow and fired. The bolt shredded the thin material of the egg sac like paper, and sickly yellow ichor gushed out in a steady stream. Xander joined in, emptying his pistol into the blimplike sac. Screeches from the Queen accompanied these attacks as dozens of its eggs were destroyed before they could even be laid. It was Willow who did the most damage though. Their flight boosted by telekinesis, her last globes of dragonflame flew through the holes torn by Xander and Giles and exploded, instantly boiling the sac's contents. A revolting cloud of steam, liquid and fragments of alien flesh erupted as the sac was blown apart, spattering the Hive.

There was a moment of silence, except for the hissing of acid blood.

A low rumble of rage came from the Queen, the rumble of a dangerous animal pushed too far. The resin holding it to its 'throne' had been largely destroyed by the assault, along with its egg sac. Now there was no reason for it to remain immobile and helpless. Its legs straightened powerfully, and it ripped away from the seat of resin which had been keeping it stationary. Hostile 100 stepped free from the ruins of its throne and its sac, flexed its limbs, and prepared to kill. The alien towered over the humans as it advanced, snarling like thunder.

"Oops," Willow squeaked.

"Uh, Giles? Any _other_ suggestions?" Xander asked. Giles stared and shook his head. Buffy offered one of her own.

"Hummus time."


	26. Finale

Over the years, Buffy's friends had developed a fine intuition for how they could best help her with the duty of Slaying. There was the 'stand-by-her-and-fight-to-the-end' situation. More common was the 'provide-research-and-emotional-support' option. And then there was the 'evacuate-the-wounded-and-get-the-heck-outta-there' scenario.

This was definitely one of the third ones. As Hostile 100 advanced, Xander, Willow and Giles scattered. Giles and Willow began dragging Forrest and the other commando towards the exit. Xander dashed to the pit Traeten had fallen into, looked in, blanched, and ran rather unsteadily to rejoin the others.

"Buffy..." started Giles.

"Just go! Tell Walsh what's going on. I'll hold it here as long as I can." Inwardly, Buffy had a not-inconsiderable urge to run after them. But that wasn't going to happen. Not only would it be near-impossible to outrun Hostile100 if it chased her, but the creature would just escape and start breeding again if Buffy allowed it to leave this room alive. If the alien wasn't stopped here and now, the horror would begin all over again. Buffy was determined that the ravaged soldiers lying around her would be the last victims of these otherworldly beings.

"We'll get help," said Willow. She looked at the towering alien. "_Lots_ of help."

"Good. Now go! I think it's getting tired of our repartee." Indeed, the Queen looked like it was ready to start shredding. Buffy wondered what was holding it back.

Her friends dashed out of the chamber, each of them sending a last, encouraging look over their shoulder as they vanished down the tunnel. As they took their exit, the light spell expired for the last time. The Slayer faced Hostile 100 in near-total darkness.

She started edging cautiously towards Riley. Before she could even start thinking about how to fight something this large and vicious, she had to get her boyfriend out of here. But the moment Buffy stepped towards Riley, the Queen screeched and swiftly moved in front of him.

_It's going to use him as a hostage like it did Professor Walsh,_ Buffy thought. Conscious thought left her, and she ran. "Get away from him you bi- Wuh?"

The alien showed no sign of threatening Riley. Instead, it turned to Buffy, bared its teeth, and hissed viciously. The situation clarified itself for Buffy in an instant. She and Hostile 100 both wanted to protect Riley: Buffy because he was her boyfriend, Hostile 100 because he was carrying its child. Despite the fact that she was in the bowels of an alien lair surrounded by corpses facing the pissed-off mother alien while her guy had an embryo nightmare growing in his chest, Buffy wasn't able to stop herself from smiling.

"Hey- this doesn't make us in-laws does it? 'Cause if it does, we are definitely not having the family get-togethers here. No offense, but your place could use a serious Martha Stewart injection- stat!"

Once again the alien showed its lack of appreciation for Slayer humour. It attacked.

Buffy was lost in a whirlwind of smashing feet, ripping claws, and snapping jaws as the alien tried to pulverize her out of existence. Diving away and evading the furious onslaught, she sprinted across the room in search of a weapon.

Buffy had always had a bit of a MacGyver relationship with guns. It wasn't any moral objection to them- heck, she'd used a rocket launcher when it was necessary- it just wasn't how she fought. Melee weapons like stakes and axes felt natural to her, they became a part of her during battle. They allowed her to fight with her soul. Guns... were just tools to kill things. Pull this, press that, something happens to make somebody dead. That just wasn't what a Slayer was about.

But right now, she needed something more than a stake. Right now, she needed a gun. A big one.

_The minigun was how the Initiative was planning to stop this thing,_ she thought. And there it was, illuminated on the floor by Randall's flashlight. She couldn't see what had happened to Randall himself, which was probably for the best. But as she got closer, she could see there would be no salvation of the chaingun variety today. Acid blood had reduced the minigun to unrecognizable scrap.

The Queen charged after her, and she threw herself to the side to avoid a trampling. Randall's corpse and weapon weren't so lucky; Buffy grimaced as she heard the soldier's body being squashed under the alien's weight.

She made for the flamethrower instead, it's pilot light still flickering in the darkness. Trying to ignore the mess that had been made of its former wielder's head, she swiftly and deftly pulled the weapon off of the man and slung it onto her back. The bulky fuel tanks sat awkwardly on her small frame, but the Slayer could handle it.

Snarling, Hostile 100 came at her. Reacting with instinct tinged with panic Buffy raised the flamethrower, fumbling for whatever fired it-

FWOOOSH!

_Found it._

The heat was nearly unbearable for Buffy- like standing a few inches away from a very generous bonfire. She could only imagine what it was like for the alien, which had just run headfirst into a wall of fire. It leapt back, screeching.

Buffy gave it another blast, encouraging it to keep its distance. She was sweating all over, but felt much better than she had a couple seconds ago. She had a weapon- a very powerful one. And for all its cunning and power, her enemy was still an animal... and animals are afraid of fire. She fired again, and the creature backed away some more.

Growling deep in its throat, the Queen swished its tail about menacingly. Suddenly, the tail snapped up and over the alien's shoulder, piercing the flames, its sharp point a blur heading for Buffy's torso.

Twisting, she avoided impalement, but the creature swung the tail into her chest, driving her to the ground with irresistible force and pinning her there. Panic welled in her chest- she was overturned like a turtle, and the tail was like a steel I-beam keeping her that way.  
Stepping closer, the Queen bared its teeth. Buffy had no doubt they would soon be buried in her flesh if she didn't get loose.

Digging her heels into the ground, she pushed hard with her legs and propelled herself out from under the tail, an instant before the creature's jaws snapped shut where her guts had been a moment earlier. Buffy got to her feet and ran, trying to put enough distance between her and the alien so that she could use the flamethrower without cooking herself.

The Queen wasn't going to let her get away that easily. It leapt forward with a bounding stride, slamming its massive head painfully into her back. If not for the heavy metal fuel tanks, Buffy's spine might have been snapped by the impact. As it was, she was sent flying facefirst into the ground.

Coughing, breathing dirt, Buffy knew she had to do something before she was finished off on the ground- preferably something that didn't involve getting knocked down again.  
Looking over her shoulder, she saw the alien's teeth bearing down on her. Grunting, she violently arched her back upwards, slamming the fuel tanks into the Queen's mouth. The creature hissed and recoiled, and Buffy took advantage, getting back to her feet.

Hostile 100 lunged, trying to knock her down again, but the Slayer caught it off guard, diving between its legs and dashing away behind it. Roaring, the creature whirled around to pursue, and got a face full of flame. Buffy now had enough room to safely use the flamethrower, and sent a long stream of fire squarely into Hostile 100.

It writhed and backed away, out of Buffy's range. It looked plenty pissed off, but she couldn't see any damage done to it by the flames. It looked like the alien's armour wasn't strong enough for it to get past the blasts of fire, but it was tough enough to keep the creature from being seriously harmed. She was going to have to think of-

To the left!

Moving with terrifying speed for something its size, the Queen dashed to the left, trampling alien and human corpses in its path, then bore in on Buffy's side. But the Slayer reacted too quickly for it. Pivoting, she braced the flamethrower on her hip and fired at the creature's face. Shrieking, it turned away, and Buffy took the opportunity to flame its tail too. The alien backed away some more, thumping the roasted tail on the ground, then whirled around and struck back, sending a glob of acid spit at Buffy's face. But the Slayer's reflexes were too sharp- she simply cocked her head to the side and let the slime pass over her shoulder. The Queen let fly again, with the same result. Buffy evaded the attack with ease.

_Okay- I've avoided the acid facial,_ she thought. _Now how do I end this?_ Before she could think of a plan, the alien did. It looked at Buffy and hissed- not its usual threatening hiss, but a signal.

Answering hisses came from the breeding pit as the five larvae swarmed up its sides and onto the ground, covered in both fresh and dried blood. They seemed to flow across the floor as a single gory mass, then separated to slither up their parent and perch on its back spines like a foul roost of featherless, legless birds.

Buffy grimaced. "I really don't see what that gains you, unless you wanted to give yourself the ugliest cheerleading bench in history. In which case- congratulations, mission accomplished."

Suddenly one of the chestbursters launched itself from the Queen like a projectile, teeth headed squarely for Buffy's face. She swept the barrel of the flamethrower up to meet it; larva met metal and larva lost, neck snapping in midair.

She understood now what Hostile 100 had done- it hadn't given itself an ugly cheerleading squad but a lethal living missile battery.

All four remaining creatures leapt at her throat. Buffy fired, knowing she couldn't get them all, and dodged at the same time. Teeth sank into her shoulder as one of the chestbursters made contact and she cried out. From behind, she heard Hostile 100's footsteps coming at her.

She dove aside from reaching claws, barely avoiding disembowelment as the enormous alien tried to take advantage of the opening its larva had created. The younger alien stayed attached to her shoulder, jaws tightening painfully around a mouthful of her flesh. She grabbed it and tore it free, gritting her teeth as some of her skin came with it, then hurled it away.

Hostile 100 roared as its child hit the dirt, righted itself, and scurried back to its parent. Two more of the chestbursters lay smouldering on the ground, fried in midair by Buffy. As the larva remounted its spines, the Queen hissed at the other surviving creature. It hissed back, then started slithering towards the exit, gliding over the ground like a snake.

"Oh no you don't," Buffy said. If that larva escaped, it would grow into an adult and eventually start a nest of its own. Not gonna happen. She started after the creature, aware that she'd just left herself wide open to Hostile 100. Sure enough, thudding footsteps signalled the Queen charging at her back.

Sprinting as hard as she could, she drew closer to the chestburster as it dashed for the exit. Raising the flamethrower without breaking stride, she fired at extreme range. The tongue of flame barely reached the larva, but when it did it turned the alien into a living torch. Shrieking, it continued running until it smacked into the wall, then lay still.

As soon as she saw the flames engulf the creature, Buffy stopped running and leaped in the other direction- towards Hostile 100. The alien had been going flat-out to overtake the Slayer, and its momentum didn't allow it to stop in time. Buffy darted between its legs as it skidded to a stop- too late to catch her.

Buffy dashed to a safe distance, turned, and fired again, this time at the remaining larva perched on the Queen's back. The alien screamed in unholy rage as its last surviving child was incinerated. The chestburster flopped about before falling to the floor, limp and wreathed in flame.

The alien charged, only to be stopped once again by a wall of fire. Growling, the creature spat at her, feinted left, then attacked right, then switched, then spat again. Each time the flamethrower stayed with it, and every advance was checked with fire, while the sprays of acid failed to find their mark. But each toasting the Queen received only seemed to be making it angrier, with no visible damage being inflicted on it. Meanwhile Buffy was getting tired, not only from the stress of the battles she'd been fighting since entering the Hive, but also from the sweltering heat that hit her each time she used the flamethrower. Worst of all, the fuel tanks were starting to feel disturbingly light. She was once again faced with the problem- how to bring this thing down?

The alien lost patience and attacked again, and again Buffy raised the flamethrower and fired. But this time, only a small spurt of flame licked the creature's exoskeleton. It stopped, surprised.

Buffy's finger tensed around the trigger again. This time nothing happened at all. Hostile 100 realized what this meant. The weapon wasn't working anymore. She was defenceless.

A low purr of satisfaction came from Hostile 100, relishing the chance to finally destroy this deadly pest which had hounded it since its arrival on this world. Almost leisurely, it leaned forward. Its mouth opened wide, as did the mouth within, a tunnel of teeth coming closer and closer to Buffy's head. She got the impression that the alien was going to take great pleasure in biting it off. She could feel its moist, warm breath on her...

Suddenly, a moment before the jaws closed around her, Buffy snapped the flamethrower's barrel up to Hostile 100's mouth and sent a long stream of searing liquid flame from the still-half-full tanks straight into the alien's mouth.

Rearing back, the alien gagged and choked as burning fuel ran down its throat, sizzling flesh. Buffy's voice was cold. "As they say on my planet- psyche!"

The alien went berserk. It stumbled away, writhing and spasming. Steam, acid, and drool spilled from its mouth. All the lethal grace it had moved and killed left it in an instant- the alien threw its head up and down, trying to get rid of the horrible flame ravaging its organs, destroying it from the inside out.

Buffy sighed as she watched the creature's death throes. She had done it.

Hostile 100's head swivelled left, right, then fixed on Buffy. It opened its mouth, and she could see flames flickering within its throat. Amid the sounds of roasting flesh and boiling fluids, a final hiss of pure malice for the Slayer came from the Xenomorph- and its arm lashed out at Buffy.

She was caught completely by surprise. The arm slammed her into the ground, bleeding freely from her side. If the blow had been more coordinated, she would have been killed instantly.

Getting back to her feet, she saw the alien shambling closer. Even if it was being burned alive from within its own body, the alien still meant to keep killing to the last. It's final act would be to slaughter this yellow-furred creature which had been Hostile 100's bane since its birth.

_What does it take to KILL this thing?_ Buffy screamed inwardly. Time to think creatively...

The alien shuddered, groaned, and dropped down on all fours. The pain was becoming too great for even the Xenomorph to bear, and Buffy took advantage. Sprinting forward, she shucked the flamethrower off her back and smoothly looped one of its straps over the Queen's small secondary arm, dodging another swipe at her guts as she did so. Then, drawing her last remaining weapon- a simple wooden stake- she whirled and stabbed the metal fuel tanks as hard as she could. The stake splintered on the metal, but punched a hole through which fuel began to leak.

Then she ran, not looking back as the fuel dribbled down the side of the tank, and from there towards the flickering pilot light...

Hostile 100 reared up onto its hind legs to follow Buffy, a moment before fuel met flame. The flamethrower exploded as the creature was in mid-step, engulfing the entire creature in a ferocious fireball. One second the alien was there, the next there was only a yellow inferno spewing droplets of flaming fuel which forced Buffy to dive to the ground.

The heat washed over her, and she looked back as the alien emerged from the cloud of flames. The secondary arm the flamethrower had been hanging from was gone. A ragged green stump that extended only a few inches out from the alien's chest was all that was left. Fire, smoke, and steam shrouded the Xenomorph like a hellish cloak as yet more acid blood fell to the floor of the Hive. The alien's shell, previously so smooth and gleaming, now sported crumples, scorch marks, and dents.

It tried to snarl, but what came out was a moan. Hostile 100's legs tightened for another lunge, then went completely gave out from underneath it. The alien fell.

As it hit the ground face first, a cacophony of cracking shell and rupturing organs filled the air as the remainder of the Xenomorph's body structure was destroyed by the final impact. It lifted its head slightly, bared its teeth at Buffy one last time, then lay still forever.

The battle was over. An oppressive silence filled the darkness of the Hive. Buffy was suddenly aware of how tired she was, of how she hurt all over, of how much death and horror was around her in this place. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here. But there was still one thing left to do.

She went to the wall where Riley was hanging, and tore apart the alien webbing with her bare hands. She gently lifted him down to the floor and held him there, unmindful of the monster clamped on his face. That was how they found her a few minutes later- sitting on the floor of the Hive, surrounded by bodies both human and alien, the immense corpse of Hostile 100 sprawled across the centre of the room, holding Riley in her arms.

Xander's eyes bugged slightly when he saw the ruined hulk of the fallen Queen. "Holy- Buffy, you said you were going to 'hold it here', not go for the major-league Slayage! What did you do to this thing?"

"Oh... just introduced it to some of Earth's more exotic cuisine," Buffy said.

"Are you all right?" asked Willow, looking doubtfully at Buffy's wounds. The Slayer was bruised and bloodied, her shirt red where alien claws and teeth had pierced her.

"It could have been much worse, believe me," she said. Giles peered at her closely anyway, making sure to his satisfaction that Buffy was okay.

Initiative soldiers clustered around Riley. "Ma'am, we've got to get him out of here and back to the base, right away. Professor Walsh will know what to do for him."

"Okay." She stood up. "I'm sick of this place anyway." They walked away, heading back to the surface, leaving the Hive behind like a bad dream.

* * *

A/N: There's still one last chapter before the end of the story. Stay tuned for the epilogue! 


	27. Epilogue

Carefully, trained fingers moving deftly, Professor Walsh lowered the scalpel into Riley's chest cavity, made a minute, almost imperceptible movement, then slowly raised it back out, and glanced at the monitors. Riley continued to breathe, continued to live. He was almost safe.

It had been hours since the mission at the Hive had been completed, but Walsh still didn't know what had happened down there. As soon as she'd seen Riley's… condition, her priorities had shifted in a hurry. She hadn't left his side for a moment, even to learn the results of the mission. Saving her best agent came first, and she hadn't wasted a moment in getting him prepped for surgery.

Open-chest operations were never easy, but removing the alien embryo from Riley had been especially tasking on Walsh's skills. For one thing, too little was still known about the creature for her to proceed with full confidence. For another, if the embryo was damaged in any way, Riley's internal organs would be doused in acid, condemning him to a horrible death. Also, the facehugger clamped on his head made it impossible to anaesthetize Riley through normal means. Walsh and Doctor Angleman had been forced to use injections to keep Riley under while they opened his chest. But despite all this, Walsh was completely confident that Riley was not going to die today, for two reasons. First of all, because Professor Margaret Walsh was, aside from a fairly decent professor of psychology, one of the best damn surgeons in the United States, and had Adam to prove it. Second, because she did _not_ like to lose.

In a strange twist, the alien facehugger had been a big help during the surgery; it turned out that its body functioned as a life-support unit for the host, keeping its victim alive long enough for the embryo to be born or, in this case, removed. But getting the revolting little packet of pulsating alien flesh out of Riley had still been tricky. It was nestled among Riley's organs, and had anchored itself there with dozens of tiny tendrils radiating out from the embryo and inserted into Riley's body. Apparently, it was through these fibres that the alien embryo drew nutrients and genetic information from the host while it grew into a chestbursting larva. Fortunately, they were far too thin to contain acid, which made it possible- barely- for some precise scalpel work by Professor Walsh to sever the tendrils.

Again she dipped the blade into his chest, and the last strand was cleanly sliced away from its mooring within Riley's flesh. Walsh breathed out gently. The worst was over. Now it was just a matter of removing the embryo and stitching up his chest, and then it would be up to his own strength- and the drugs Walsh had been secretly slipping her soldiers- to help him recover from one of the most difficult surgeries Walsh had ever performed.

"You're going to make it," she whispered to Riley. "It's all going to be okay now."

"Not quite everything," Dr. Angleman said from behind her. With Walsh occupied with Riley, it had fallen to Angleman to go debrief the soldiers as soon as he could be spared from the surgery. "Ready for the report?"

Walsh sighed and turned away from Corporal Finn. "I suppose it's overdue. What the hell happened down there?"

"It seems that Jacob Traeten was not entirely honest with us. He didn't mention that, prior to his arrest, the Ravnon team had observed three subterrestials entering the Hive and being ambushed, subdued and impregnated by the Xenomorphs. Nor did he mention the Xenomorphs' practice of defending the Hive by concealing eggs near the entrances," Angleman said. "Our people went in there facing a larger and more well-prepared force than he led us to believe."

"The slimy bastard." Walsh's face was. "Tell me you found him."

Angleman smiled. "Parts of him."

"He didn't make it?" Walsh asked.

"Apparently his plan was to capture a larval Xenomorph and escape during the chaos. It… didn't turn out very well for him."

"Lucky for him," Walsh said. "How many people did we lose?"

Dr. Angleman looked grim. "We had almost total casualties. In addition to Corporal Finn, Forrest is still alive and relatively unharmed. He's suffering from venom-induced paralysis, but it should pass shortly. Private Thrace survived as well, although his hand will have to be amputated."

"Damn," sighed Walsh. "He was a good one. Just tell me we got the aliens. _All_ the aliens." She smiled. "Once we're sure this is over, we can get started making our improvements to Adam, and this will all have been worth it."

"Every single one of the Xenomorphs appears to have been destroyed." Angleman said. "But…"

"What is it?"

Angleman swallowed. The Professor was not going to be happy. "While you were working on Agent Finn, our superiors contacted us. The casualties of tonight's operation, coupled with our previous difficulties in containing the aliens, have convinced them that the Initiative is not qualified to handle threats both subterrestrial _and_ extraterrestrial. Our jurisdiction over the Xenomorph situation- with all related materials and data- is going to be transferred to another agency which I believe you are aware of…"

The Doctor had been right. Walsh was not happy. "Damn! This is all that bastard Traeten's fault! We wouldn't have had any problems or casualties if not for…" She took a deep breath. "Okay… fine. All right. Let me guess. 'All materials and data' includes the Xenomorph body we were going to incorporate into Adam's design."

Angleman nodded. "We'll have to go back to his original schematics."

Walsh sighed as her vision of absolute perfection evaporated. She turned away and was silent, brooding. They would have started upgrading Adam tomorrow… Angleman waited patiently, knowing the conversation wasn't over, and that disturbing the Professor in this state was a very bad idea. Eventually she spoke again.

"I wanted to see if she could be controlled…" she mused. "That's why I let her and her silly friends come along. But she didn't hang back. She charged in there without orders or permission."

"Yes, but without the actions of the civilians, our casualties would almost certainly have been total. They destroyed Hostile 100 and most of the Xenomorphs as well," Angleman said. "They're powerful."

"Yes, they certainly are," Walsh agreed. She turned back towards the Doctor. "We'll give her a try. I'm going to schedule a joint night time training exercise for the Slayer and our men this week," she said. "I have high hopes for her. Her attachment to Riley should make her integration and control smoother, and if anything goes wrong… the contingency is already being prepared."

"Very good Professor," Angleman said. "Anything else?"

"Nothing except that I'm going to stitch up Finn and get some damn sleep. This has been a hell of a long night." And with that, Walsh bent over the soldier again.

* * *

"Hey Buffy," Willow said as she, Xander and Giles entered the dorm room. The Slayer barely looked up. She was sprawled on her bed, where she'd been all day, and most of what night had still remained by the time they had returned from the Hive. She probably could have come into class today, but explaining her bruises, blisters, scrapes, and the teeth marks on her shoulder would have taken some doing. Besides which, she'd been completely wiped. Even by the Scoobies' standards, last night had been a nasty one.

"Hey Will," she said. "Thanks for covering for me. Did everyone buy that I was sick?"

Willow laughed. "Oh yeah. Professor Walsh even mentioned that you'd seemed a bit under the weather lately. Which was weirdly nice of her, but hey, we did save the Initative's butt last night."

Buffy sat straight up at the mention of Walsh. "Did she say anything-"

"About Riley?" Riley said, appearing behind them. "He's gonna be fine." Buffy gasped and leapt up to run to him, only to be caught by Xander and Giles.

"Easy, there," Xander admonished. "The invincible commando isn't feeling too invincible after open-chest surgery." Indeed, Riley was very pale, which contrasted gruesomely with the bright red scars on his face where the facehugger had gripped his flesh. He leaned heavily against the doorway, and Willow stood close to him ready to catch him if he fell.

"I'm fine, really," Riley insisted with an amazing lack of conviction. "I just had to see you. I heard that you got hurt down there, and there were already enough people who suffered on my mission." Buffy started to protest, and he held up a hand. "Don't worry, I'm not going to blame myself for what happened to the team. Walsh told me about what Traeten did. I still can't believe it, though…"

"Believe it," Xander said. "He was still trying to get his hands on those aliens even while a war was going on around him. Instead, they got their hands on him. It wasn't pretty."

"No great loss," Giles said. "I'm still quite frankly amazed that Walsh was able to remove the embryo. It must have been an impressive feat of surgery."

Riley smiled. "Maggie's the best."

A look of worry crossed Giles' face as a thought occurred to him. "Riley, did Walsh ever say anything about what was done with the embryo?"

Riley was surprised. He'd never even thought to ask. "Nope, just that it was gone."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Buffy said confidently. "Even if that thing did survive the surgery, she won't do anything stupid. Walsh has just had her soldiers torn up pretty bad by these aliens, and Riley's told me how much she cares about them." Riley nodded his confirmation. "She probably doesn't want to see another one of those things ever again- an attitude which I completely support, by the way. I'll bet that embryo, dead or alive, has a date with an Initiative incinerator." She frowned. "Do they have incinerators? I'll bet they use something more high-tech."

"I'm just glad it's all over," Xander said. "We're back to fighting things that we can safely stab without getting acid on us."

"Hmm." Riley looked troubled.

"What?" asked Buffy.

"It's just that… Professor Walsh. She told me that during her interrogation of Traeten, he said that the aliens coming to Earth couldn't be coincidence. That for these eggs to keep landing here… The odds were just too great for it to be random chance. Something had to be sending them." Riley looked at them. "She thought he might have been right."

They were all silent. Xander looked at Buffy, who looked at Willow, who looked to Giles.

"Well, we may hope that if there is any purpose behind these creatures, the events of the past few days have taught it a lesson," He removed his glasses and started cleaning them. "Until then…. well, all we really can do…"

Xander finished for him. "Keep watching the skies."

Buffy looked outside. The sky was blue and clear, but beyond it was vast blackness lit by cold stars. And the blackness wasn't empty.

"Keep watching the skies."

They all looked grim until Xander spoke up again. "Hey, who feels like hot dogs? I feel like hot dogs." And, for Buffy and her friends, life went on.

* * *

Spike was no stranger to hangovers. Over a couple centuries of hard living during which he'd repeatedly pushed his vampiric tolerance for self-abuse to the limit, he had even developed a crude classification system in his mind for morning-after maladies. There was the "Dead-Slayer-Celebration" hangover. There was the "Bloody-Dru-ran-off-on-me- again" hangover. There was even the "Never-ever-gonna-get-in-another-drinking-contest-with-a-Hellion-EVER" hangover.

But never, not once in the depths of his darkest and most turbulent nightmares, had Spike ever imagined that one day he would have an "accidentally-saved-the-Scoobies'-lives" hangover.

"Ohhh…" he groaned. Spike had well and truly hit the whiskey after returning from the Master's old cathedral-cum alien lair, and eventually passed out. Looked like it was night again; he must have been out the entire day.

He got up, not without difficulty, and got himself a blood packet. As he tried to shake off his headache, he tried to focus on the positive. There was precedent for this sort of thing, after all. Hell, saving a Scooby- Giles!- was how he'd gotten roped into this bloody mess in the first place. And it had looked like Junior was about to jump Willow when Spike had waded in, and Spike liked Red, at least as far as humans went. If he could stand saving the Watcher, he certainly could stand saving her.

Still, it rankled him that after getting into the nest, almost getting his head torn off by the thing that had come out of his chest, and accidentally helping the Slayer, he'd left with no one knowing that he'd even been there, let alone that he'd saved anyone's life. What it added up to was that he wasn't going to get any bloody credit, let alone cash, for going through all that.

"Bloody bunch of bollocks," he muttered sullenly. His face grew dark and distorted, his brow wrinkled, his eyes yellowed, and his fangs extended as he sank them into the revoltingly cold packet of cow blood. Spike drank, and tried to redirect his thoughts back along happier paths. For one thing, the whole whack of soldier-boys who'd gotten messily torn apart really took the edge off. And as nasty as all this had been, it was bloody well over. He'd bashed in Junior himself, and was pretty sure the Slayer and co. had put paid to all the other alien crawlies down there.

His chest was healing up fine too, although he was still able to stick his finger in and touch his liver, which was just bloody weird. Hell, it looked like by the time the wound was done closing, no one would even be able to tell what had happened, which suited him just fine. The nightmare that he'd experienced in that hospital was one horror story he'd rather keep to himself.

All in all, he decided, it could be a lot worse. The aliens were all dead, Spike was still on top, and, there were absolutely no loose ends laying around to trip anything up. Spike closed his eyes, satisfied, and drank deep.

* * *

A man stood on the Sunnydale bluffs under the midnight moon. Below him, the remains of a stolen Sunnydale police car sank into the sea. Its usefulness was over, along with that of certain other tools. The man took out a cell phone and dialed.

"Hello sir? Yes, it's me. It's all over here. Traeten and the Xenomorphs are dead, and Ravnon's people are all either dead or in government custody."

"No sir, not completely accounted for. There may have been a survivor. One of the Initiative's soldiers was impregnated during the battle. I don't know what happened to him but it's possible- Oh? You're sure sir? Completely alive and unharmed? Remarkable."

"Tomorrow? If you can acquire details of the transportation arrangements, then I might be able to intercept it- It's already being taken care of? Very good sir."

"No, my cover is still completely intact. Traeten never suspected who I really was." The listener knew this was true. If Traeten had had any inkling of what the caller was truly capable of, he certainly would have made greater use of him than just impersonating a police officer.

"No sir, neither the Initiative nor the Slayer suspect anything. As far as they know, I'm one of the Ravnon agents who died in the Hive... No sir, I don't think we have to worry about the Slayer or her circle. They think it's all over."

"Yes, I agree. Traeten was a fool. Resourceful, and far too clever for his own good, but still a fool. However, I managed to copy all his files before the Initiative seized them; they contain all the information about his dealings with Walsh. I understand you have an interest in Walsh's project?"

"Yes sir, I understand. The project appears to be proceeding very well. Walsh and Angleman still have full confidence in it, as did Traeten. No sir, they don't have any worries or suspicions about it at all… very good sir. Oh. I see…"

"Very well then sir. I'll be back in Los Angeles by tomorrow. Yes… of course. Thank you. Good bye… Mr. Manners."

Above Los Angeles, the stars- and the things in them- looked down on the city coldly and indifferently. In the offices of Wolfram & Hart, Holland Manners put down his phone and looked up at them. It was going to be a busy summer…

* * *

A/N: And that's the end (?). I hope you've enjoyed yourselves; God knows I had the time of my life pitting Buffy against the Aliens. Hopefully there'll be a sequel involving Angel Investigations, Wolfram & Hart, that mysterious man on the bluff, and certain vicious alien creatures.. That said, I have one last favour to ask of you all.

Even though the story is done, I believe it can still be improved, and I plan to keep editing it until it's the best it can be. (For example, I just realized I gave no explanation for the Scoobies' presence in the Initiative in chapter 10) AnthonyR, JoeDineen, atz, and tater have already very kindly pointed out some mistakes and inaccuracies which I plan to fix. If you guys have any suggestions, nitpicks, comments, anything, for any chapter, that you want to say that could help me make this thing better, please tell me.

Once I am done editing the story, I plan to publish its new, improved form at as many places as possible. If there are any other fanfiction sites where I could publish this which you recommend, that would be great as well.

Thank you once more for reading and reviewing,

Megalomaniac2

aka Jesse MacLean

PS- A free facehugger plushie to whoever can find the most geek references in this story. There's a big one in the last scene.


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